#like if they truly wanted to make the art/body connection what they SHOULD have done was referenced the marilyn warhol prints

[sanstropfremir]

....I have to ask..... what do you think about gidle song nude? The Marilyn Monroe inspiration was definitely there along with that jazz age sound in a way?? But man... I'm not sure what to think of it. Bc I can see what they're going for. The different shades of blonde remind me of red velvet ice cream cake era. I can see the message maybe about embracing sexuality? Something that exid would do in terms of messaging but way more obvious. Idk. It feels like soye*n is trying to make impactful songs which chart wise and album sale wise she does but it doesn't ever hit for me.

i wish gidle would actually do something that was worth the 'hype' that they get. i don't like the song but i've never liked a song from them so. the mv........it's complicated. there are actually a lot of good connections and ideas happening there, but the problem is that they just don't DO anything with them. like 90% of the mv is references to different types of 'scandalous' media or cultural touchstones, and from which ones they've chosen i can see that they're trying to make some kind of comment on the judgement and policing women's bodies and sexuality, but they don't really follow that through to anything meaningful. they themselves don't actually do anything scandalous, which, in my instincts, would be the logical conclusion in my brain. they just make references and call it a day.

the base format for the whole thing is vaudeville, which is pretty much the ancestor of burlesque and stripping; the opening moment with the pink velvet dress is just a knockoff version of marilyn's diamonds are a girl's best friend number from gentlmen prefer blondes; the cone bra is obvs a madonna reference; the cartoon is jessica rabbit from who framed roger rabbit; the book she's reading is (i'm assuming) walt whitman's leaves of grass; obvs also the marilyn white dress moment; also inexplicably there's a banksy reference too with the shredding frame. which was a scandal, but it's not at all related to gender or sexuality so i have no idea why it was included, unless they're trying to make the conflation between the female body and art as a bought and sold commodity, which.................well. there's better ways to handle that that make more logical sense. like clearly there was a creative team that had relatively lofty ideas, but you have to do something with those ideas. and they kind of set themselves up for failure in this instance, because they were clearly trying to make some sort of intentional statement (basically it wasn't just a spectacle piece), but you can't just reference a bunch of media and call it a day. you have to synthesize something new out of those references. that's the difference between why something like 2 baddies works and why this doesn't; 2 baddies makes something new from a ton of source material (literally in the case of the custom porsche too). it also isn't trying to be deeper than it is, yea it's based in a bunch of weird niche research but the mv isn't expecting you to know about the history of car manufacturing or art deco in order to appreciate the neon vomit chaos. it's there in order to give the visuals an underpinning logic. but if you don't know any of the references in the nxde mv, the theme means literally nothing. it's incomprehensible. they literally have to name some of the references at the end of the mv so people get it. and that's a cheap shortcut, instead of actually doing the work to make something that has artistic merit on its own.

[or0ch1maru]

𝟭𝟴+ 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜, 𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗔𝗸𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ;)

•

𝗛𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗻 & 𝗞𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂:

•these two love nothing more than a brat, someone to challenge them. someone who pushes their limits.

•both are brat tamers, all for punishments and funishments. You want to act out? Too damn bad. They’ll be the first to pull you into their room and snap that mentally right from you.

•toys, being tied up, sensory deprivation, all these among other things they’ll use on and against you. they truly enjoy watching the way you whimper, begging for them to use your holes.

•Kakuzu & Hidan are definitely on the rougher side of things but they both know when you need gentler loving, and won’t hesitate to slow down if they feel that you can’t handle it.

•praising? Forget about it, that won’t come until they’re done with you. “𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹”, “𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹, 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁?”, “𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁. 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲.” Are the comments they’ll coo and mewl into your ears as they mark you up and stuff you.

•are gods at aftercare. Hidan wasn’t aware that it was something that should and needed to be done after a session. Kakuzu had to explain it to him but once he understood, he was the first to jump up and make you comfortable. bubble baths, body massages, playing with you hair. These are just some of the ways to two will take care of you.

𝗦𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗶 & 𝗗𝗲𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗮:

•these two will take their time with you. They say your body is art and will marvel at you like you’re on a pedestal.

•what you would think would be a short and quick fuck, would turn into hours of pleasure. Each whimper, moan, and whine that escapes your lips only eggs them on.

•definitely taking turns. While one fucks you, the other will play with you. They enjoy doing this while in missionary. Deidara will have you up against him while his red haired partner fills you up. The blonde will play with your nipples, stroke your frame, nibble on your ears and leave purple marks on your neck.

•Sasori won’t cum yet. He’ll pull out and let his partner take his turn. Sasori will gently place your hand around his shaft, having you slowly stroke him as a test to your concentration.

•the pair love to praise. Especially when you’re taking both of them. “𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝘂𝘀.”, “𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆.”. they also love caressing & touching your face any chance they get.

•kisses. whether it’s on your lips or your neck, even your inner thighs, kissing is one thing they can’t go without. eye contact is another thing the two crave. they feel it’s a pure bonding, and intimate connection.

•their version of aftercare involves cuddling and sleeping. once everyone’s been cleaned up, they’ll place you gently between them, wrapping you up under the blanket and they’ll trace over your body and play with your hair until you fall asleep.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻 & 𝗞𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗻:

•pain will have Konan focus on you first. Watching as his partners face is buried between your legs, causing you to cry out as her tongue flicks over your clit. He enjoys the way you grab onto her hair when she slides her fingers into you, almost as if you want her deeper.

•Konan is primarily the top with you, taking control until it’s time to take her partner. Sometimes she’ll have you finger fuck her, pleasing her the way she does you. These two also enjoy bringing toys into the mix. Edging you with a vibrator until you’re begging for release.

•Pain never lets either of the girls feel excluded. Giving both Konan and you the same amount of pleasure and attention. Hates when his girls are dissatisfied. While he fucks you, he’ll hold a vibrator to his partners clit, watching as they both become unraveled by his touch.

•when Pain is near his orgasm, he’ll have both of you get on your knees in front of him. The look of his girls this way throws him over the edge. Covering the both of you in his cum. All over your faces, it dripping down your chins and onto your chests.

•their version of aftercare is taking a nice hot shower. It’ll start off innocent, just lathering yourselves in soap to clean yourselves and before you know it, Pain will have you and Konan bent over and mushed against the shower wall.

𝗭𝗲𝘁𝘀𝘂 & 𝗧𝗼𝗯𝗶/𝗢𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗼:

•doms! This pair takes control. Black Zetsu will be the main focus out of him and white Zetsu, but white Zetsu is the one the praise you during your sessions.

•Obito prefers being the ‘sloppy’ second believe it or not. He’ll watch his partner stuff and fill your holes, listening to the way you cry as you take him. He also loves to taunt you when his partner is deep in your cunt. “𝘄𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹. 𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗶𝗺.”, “𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲. 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁.”, “𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰. 𝗜𝘀 𝘇𝗲𝘁𝘀𝘂 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸?”

•they both love choking. Your neck will be red for hours after each session. Any form of marking these two are able to leave on you fuels them. They both have an ownership & possession kink. They’re not satisfied until you’re covered in purple and red marks.

•another thing to two love doing is pulling out and cumming on your entrance. The pair love watching as you go about your daily activities with their cum mixing together in your panties.

•uses each other for punishments. You piss off Obito? You’ll be paying for that as Zetsu stuffs your holes, his partner will be right next to you as your face is mushed on the wall, into the carpet, into a pillow. The usual taunting will continue, becoming harsher with each sentence. Obito knows his words cause you to become soaked, craving nothing but his cock inside you, and that’s what you’re being deprived of.

•Zetsu is the same. If you anger him, you’re out of luck. He’ll have Tobi bending you over a desk, completely wrecking you. Zetsu does taunt, just not as much as Tobi. What he does instead is stroke his cock. Just out of your arms reach. It’s look but don’t touch, which drives you mad.

•at the end of this, they’ll run you a hot bath. Letting you relax and unwind in the warm water. They’ll be found in the kitchen, preparing a delicious meal for after.

𝗞𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 & 𝗜𝘁𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶:

•just like Deidara & Sasori, these two prefer going slow. They’ll go all day if they choose.

•when there isn’t enough time to have sex, they’ll have you take turns riding their thighs. Leaving stains from your juices on their pant legs.

•these two aren’t ashamed of pushing you against a tree while out on a mission. They also don’t care if anybody discovers the three of you getting it on, whether that’s at home in the compound or while on a task.

•hair pullers. That nice bun, or ponytail you had? It’ll be wrecked by the time these two are done with you.

•late at night, they love when you get on top. Taking your time and doing what movements you need to get your release. They love watching the way your tits bounce as you ride their cocks.

•as much as they love using you, they prefer when you use them. If you crave them in the middle of the night, they’ll be more than happy to give you what you want. You want to sneak off from a group dinner and have a quickie in a bathroom, just give them that look and they’ll find an excuse to leave.

•when it comes to aftercare, they will worship your body like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do. Don’t get me wrong, they worship you while fucking, but seeing your body after, sets them both into overdrive. Body massages, compliments and praises, and kissing.

[leighlew3]

I've been thinking about this a bit lately, and there was a small misunderstanding when I dipped my toe (and then whole body 😂) into the SC / SG fandom, i.e. a few people unfortunately thinking I was trying to mislead or exploit fans in some way, because of others from this industry who used and lied to fans in the past re: a different show. And while that was unfair to paint me with the same brush without knowing me, I can understand where they could’ve had concerns because of wounds caused by others.

Hopefully people understand by now though that wasn’t the case. As I’ve said so many times before, if nobody around here ever consumes anything I write? Cool beans! But I’m both a professional in this industry and a lifelong fan girl and that’s not gonna change. And I’m going to talk about both my career and fandom stuff. 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, I do hope people know by now that I’m here for the right reasons, and always have been. And I always will be. But if I ever did anything that made it come across otherwise — I truly apologize. I mean it, seriously. Any misunderstandings that I might’ve inadvertently caused through making a dumb math joke or expressing that fans should always have hope and fight for what they believe in, etc — if it upset anybody in any way or wasn’t expressed properly by me at the time — I feel awful.

While I can’t do anything about a couple people who twisted my words or intentions or even flat out lied about stuff being said or done that never happened — I do want to own any part I had in it by not more quickly clarifying or shutting that stuff down. I really do feel bad about all that, because all I’ve ever wanted to do was show love and be understood and connect with people and fight for the ship and fandom, and I’ve done that online (and behind the scenes in ways that I can’t even talk about) for years now.

I adore y’all, and I will always be a Supercorp fan. I’ve always been (brutally) honest and an open book, but I’ve also just been passionate (and sometimes sadly misunderstood) by the occasional little pocket of people. And that sucks. But I don’t hold it against them, and I hope nobody holds that stuff against me.

I'm posting this now, because after losing my mom this year and with the holidays coming up, I've been reflecting a lot. And I realize that life is too short for grudges or misunderstandings that can be corrected or made amends for, so I hope people know that I love y’all and appreciate y’all and any past minor conflicts or accidental misunderstandings — even if it was just with a few people — really sucked, and I hope there can be mutual forgiveness.

Anyway, I don’t expect everybody to like me or agree with my perspectives, or even approve of how I go about expressing myself. But we can’t control anybody else in life. All we can do is control ourselves, self reflect, and work towards growth. Thus, if I ever did anything to make anybody — even just 2 or 3 or 10 people — feel any kind of negative way, that's a big oops on my end, and I'm sorry.

And if some of those people still feel like it was entirely justified to target me so intensely the way they did — hey, bygones and I forgive it — and I still want to offer nothing but love and hope that the future brings better things for us all. For real.

TLDR: The last 5-ish years on a personal level have been incredibly difficult, and the last 6+ months have been emotional hell, but the ship between Kara/Lena and the SC fandom as a whole has been there for me in the most incredible of ways (through humor and fan art and fanfiction and friendships and lions and tigers and bears). And I’ve tried to be there in return, as much as humanly possible, and as authentically as possible.

And that’s why the little percentage that didn't like or trust me — I hope we can metaphorically hug it out and move forward and I hope I’ve made some progress in your perception of me over time, but even if not — or hell, if it’s gotten worse for some reason, I’m going to continue to show love and support towards this ship / fandom and fight for our LGBTQ community. Because I truly care. Even if I’m human and make some mistakes along the way, past or future. Even if people misunderstand me sometimes.

All I can do is my best. And that’s all I’ve ever tried to do...

Love y’all. 💜

P.S. If you’d like to chat or seek to be unblocked or whatever, send me a message via a burner or on Instagram DM or somethin’ and we’ll chitty chat and hopefully hug it out. I’m down. Cheers. 🤙

[landofzero-archive]

Absolute - To Abhor the Impure World 12

(Location: Secret Religious Facility)

(At the same time. Secret religious facility underneath the WNW district.)

Shaka: “Hey, brother, do you remember the circumstances of when you were born?

Do you know who you are, and where you came from?”

Nagisa: …… No.

…… Father passed away without telling me anything of the sort.

…… That’s why even now, I’m still constantly searching for ‘that’.

…… About what I am.

…… I felt like if I were to become the finest idol like Father had wished for, I would be able to touch upon even the edges of the answer to that.

…… But. That should be unnecessary since you seem to know what I am.

…… You called me brother, didn’t you, Shaka-san.

…… Are you saying that you and I are siblings properly connected by blood?

Shaka: “………”

Nagisa: ……The last time we went to the United States, we saw you sing on the stage of Absolute.

…… So that strange feeling, that discomfort I felt at the time was, in other words, a sense of identification that came from that sort of blood connection.

Shaka: “Unfortunately I can’t answer that question with either YES or NO.

I don’t know that much either. Just like the God who behaved like your guardian(1), Priest who created and controlled me had passed away without telling me anything important.”

Nagisa: …… Is that so. In that case, I feel a little regret, like I should not have got rid of him.

Shaka: “I want to thank you for a job truly well done in that regard.

He was a monster. He was someone who should have been suppressed. He was a devil who had contorted and crushed countless people’s lives, including me and NEGI-chan.

Even with conjecture, I can’t really say what that man’s objective was. He seemed to be earnestly imitating the way of life of the God in the religious faith he followed, though. 

So what did he ultimately want to do? Did he just want to replace God, or did he want to surpass God—

I don’t know the actual truth. Everything is a mystery; it’s all been buried in the darkness.”

Nagisa: ………

Shaka: “However, I can say this. Priest and the God he believed in had a distinct difference; Priest had been in pursuit of eternal life.”

Nagisa: …… From time immemorial, that’s what conquering champions had earnestly sought after.

…… No. In a way, it’s the greatest wish(2) of all mankind.

…… That is to say, to not want to die and wanting to live.

Shaka: “That’s true. I’m searching for that too. If possible, I just want to forever enjoy a free, fun life.

However. My life was dominated by Priest.

I was simply a pawn for Priest to use to achieve his ambitions. I was a money-making device used to gather the profits required for that.”

Nagisa: …… I wonder if it was the same for me too.

…… Was the reason father wanted me to become an idol because he wanted me to become a profitable existence just like you are?

Shaka: “Unlike you, I don’t really know much about God, so I can’t say for certain.

I’d like to tell you that it’s not like that. That your father, God, loved idols, unlike Priest. (3)

I don’t think you’re just a tool for making money, from what I can infer about him from what I heard in stories.

He loved idols. So he probably genuinely just wanted you to be what he loved.

I’m envious of you, brother.”

Nagisa: ………

Shaka: “I, and possibly you too, am a ‘Perfect human’ that one could not even dream of having been brought into being (4) unless by means of state of the art occult science. 

I’m an artificial human, whose countless consolidated souls of geniuses dwell in this body possessing the best genes.

Perhaps I didn’t have proper parents, and was born (4) from a test tube.

This means that I’m a homunculus born(4) by means of alchemy. Fufu.

You might be thinking that these are just the thoughtless words of someone with a mental illness, brother. I don’t think I’m quite sane anymore either—— so I’d like you to take what I said with a grain of salt.

At the very least, I grew up being told that I was that sort of being.

That I, the most perfect human created(4) by God, was created(4) through the same technology that created Ran Nagisa.

Of course Priest admired God, took over his position and replaced him, but in the end he was still a worthless human who could not become God.

That technology probably wasn’t perfect. In the end, I can’t be anything more than an inferior copy of you.”

Nagisa: …… This might not be enough of a consolation. But thinking that a copy is inferior to the original is a superficial way of thinking.

…… If we’re to speak from the point of view of biology, the later generation of seeds are more excellent. It can adapt to it’s environment better, with better survival. A strong living being. 

…… In fact, you’re Absolute’s six-times consecutive champion. You’re said to be the world’s best idol.

…… After all, you have better reputation than me, who is just borrowing Ibara’s words to pretend to be a king of the hill domestically.

…… You’re higher ranked than me beyond any comparison.

…… The moment I first saw you, a feeling that was difficult to describe was born(4) inside of me.

…… When I saw you singing and dancing on stage, what arose inside of me was probably a sense of defeat and a sense of inferiority, in other words it was jealousy.

…… You were the first to have given me that sort of feeling since I was born, O, world’s best idol.

Shaka: “You’re kind, huh.

That’s exactly why I’m jealous; you grew up being loved.

So you can care about others. You’re able to want to wipe away that grief.

That’s quite difficult for someone like me, people who won’t be able to live if we don’t exert ourselves to the fullest.”

Nagisa: ………

Shaka: “I’m the world’s best idol? How absurd!

In Absolute, the performer who can get the most tips wins. It’s not the most brilliant or talented idol who wins, but the idol who earns the most money.

Furthermore, Priest, who made me, had an enormous amount of power and money.

 I continued to win Absolute simply because that Priest who had more money compared to anyone else, continued to pour money into me.

It was definitely not due to my abilities.

I’m the minion of the devil, I’m a false messiah who misleads the people while slurping on their lifeblood! I can’t help but hate, hate the me who does that! 

Brother! Please help me…….! I can’t stand being myself anymore!”

TL NOTES

The same 保護者 (Hogosha) used by Hiyori in To Abhor The Impure World Chapter 7.

悲願 (Higan): greatest wish, but also refers to the Buddha’s vow to save humanity (the Boddhisatva vow).

Priest is written as 神父 (Shinpu) with the kanji for God and Father, while referred to in the story, GF is written in katakana as ゴッドファーザー  (read as Godfather). Shaka is somewhat making a pun when he said ‘your father’ 君の父 ; this sentence could also be read as ‘That your father, God, loved idols, unlike (my) Father.’.

Technically ‘born’, ‘created’ and ‘brought into being’ can be the same in JP. The phrasing 生まれた (Umareta) is used in these sentences.

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[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

We need to be aware of male violence and we need to “give permission” as it were to women who don’t want to partner with men (even if attracted to them) or have children to not do so. But I think sometimes some women focus so much on male violence that they are then focusing far too much on men and letting their ire extend to women and also to the world in general and that’s not good.

Men are not the world and the world is not men. There are so many beautiful to live for. Do I wish a lot of things hadn’t happened to me? As in, I’m not grateful for the experience, it inhibited me as a person, it shouldn’t happen to anyone, it shouldn’t ever be a fact of life? Yes. And I will continue to raise awareness about these things, encourage other women to talk about them, condemn the men who do these things, and demand an end to them. Would I rather not have been born since these things have happened to me? No. Absolutely not. I am glad I was born. I have seen rainbows and full moons and dew-studded spiderwebs and growing plants. I have interacted with animals, I have eaten such good food, heard such beautiful music and lent my own voice. I have lifted my arms out in the wind. I have felt the air in a pink sunset after a storm. I have connected with people in lamplight and by the fireplace. There are yet more beautiful experiences I might have. I want to live. I want to live as long as my body will allow me to do so. I think it is worth it to live. I simply think I would have lived better had it not been for what men have done to me.

I understand why some women think it is not worth bringing a child into the world, and I support with my full being their right to not do so. I myself have wanted children my entire life--that is, as far back as I can remember and I can remember points of my life as early as 1 year old--and yet have none, because given my own childhood I made the decision that I would have children on my terms (with a man I truly believed would be a good partner and father) or not at all. My standards for men are high. I am 36 years old. Not at all is looking more and more likely, and I’ve made my peace with that.

But at no point in my life have I not wanted children. That isn’t changing any time soon. Because I want to sing my child to sleep. I want to wake my child up to see a bright star as my nana did for me. I want to teach my child to garden and forage, I want to foster a connection to nature. And I want to watch her grow. I want to watch what becomes of a child whose parents love and support her. I want to see what she takes interest in. Will be visual arts and literature and certain sciences like me? Or will it be math? Engineering? Sports? Dance? Something else? And I would hope every day and try within my power every day to protect her from the things that happened to me or worse, knowing there is a more than decent change they would.

But I do not feel all the beauty of this world is cancelled out by men’s violence. I do not feel that this world isn’t worth being born into as long as there are women who genuinely want to do it. The day that no women want to is the day we should make the collective decision to let our species die out. Until then, no one gets to make that decision on behalf of everyone and I think it is wrong to shame women who have not made that decision. Please redirect your ire towards men and your focus to women and the world.

[citylawns]

i'm so sorry to be one of the ppl asking for advice on physical appearance topics, but i'm wondering if you could give me insights on how i should stay firm in my self-confidence when i'm constantly being compared to someone else. i'm grateful to have a stylish mother (who is my muse) but it does hurt that ppl always HAVE to compare us (my mom has the typical model look; i'm just 'plain') & how clothes fit on us. i use fashion as self-appreciation & expression but now i feel limited in some way.

continuing from the last question, lots of ppl have literally told me word by word that i'm "so unlucky to have not gotten my mother's genes, what a waste!". as events like this piled up over the past several years, my self-image is destroyed. went to loads of therapy but felt like i was overreacting & all of them told me 'why does that matter?'. i too just want to be respected. now i just wear things that cover my body :/ maybe i'm the problem, but just in need of contradiction or assurance

I am sorry because I think I’ve failed to get through to you every single time I’ve answered these questions before.

I’m just repeating myself now saying “stand up for yourself” and “de-centre beauty from your life through friends and art etc”. I know it’s harder than it sounds and you’re in a really bad environment if people are saying that stuff to you and your mother doesn’t defend you. that’s disgusting. As soon as you can get away from those people and get away from your mother you should do so. It’s psychological damage, I know you say she’s your muse and hopefully she’s nicer to you in other ways but lots of women like being in competition with their daughters and that’s the vibe I’m getting from your message. Or she may not even realise. So question then: does your mother ever build up your self esteem and tell you how amazing you are in other ways? Does she see how the comparison destroys you? Does she tell these people to shut the fuck up? Could you ever confide in her and be comforted?

I rarely see my mum because of the things she’s done and said to me and my siblings and it’s taken years but every second I was away from her I felt myself getting happier and healthier.

I truly keep trying to point you in the direction of people, videos, concepts, politics, advice that will help you that you can explore yourself but it’s in your hands to take action and decide what is best for you, whether this resonates and helps or not. You don’t have to listen to a word I have said but I’m answering the same question over and over and over.

I get that my advice is probably not helpful in any way because this is not something I’ve experienced. But I have endured self hatred and low self esteem, I know you can’t just brush it off like it’s not made an impact, it will do and obviously has done. So maybe you just need to keep feeling that hurt until it you can verbally stand up for yourself, make art out of the experience, write about the experience, connect with other people about the experience, and leave to find a better place where people appreciate you.

That’s what I did when I was younger, for different reasons but I was def considered the unattractive weird girl at school. after I was abused by my boyfriend and my friends turned against me in favour of him I had a mental breakdown, was cutting myself, punching myself, trying to wrap cords around my neck to end my life, I’ve struggled with self hatred so deep I’ve tried to end my life and destroy myself in so many ways because I was convinced I was bad and worthless by my mother, my ex boyfriend, all of my friends, and all the teachers and other students at my school who didn’t reach out. I barely survived but I did and things slowly got better when I left that environment and started going to gigs regularly and festivals and meeting a new group of people including the next boyfriend who I spent 4 years with.

Hopefully this is a phase of your life that you just have to survive. Hang in there ❤️

[solomanta]

Sigils Magic Basics

"A sigil is a symbol used to represent something in a magickal working.

If you're not new tote occult, you may have come across or even used sigil magick of some type.

In basic candle magick, sometimes symbols of desire are carved into candles before they're burned. In the advanced art of evocation, sigils are used as signatures of sorts, representing the entity being called forth.

Somewhere in the middle of these two magickal ickal uses of sigils lies what is commonly called "sigil magick." Most modern versions of sigil magick owe their roots to the work of Austin Osman Spare.

Spare was an artist with an uncanny connection tion to the unseen world. One can assume he saw things moving in the dark matter all around us on a regular basis.

More important, however, was his ability to pull things out of his deep consciousness and reveal them through his drawings and paintings.

By doing so, he forged links to atavistic or hidden forces in his own body and in the universe.

Spare worked on a way of using symbolism to quickly contact the forces that his art sometimes had to painfully call up. His Alphabet of Desire was a series of symbols that could be assembled like mystical keys to an ancient puzzle. The way he'd put them together determined what real forces were called into his life.

At least that's the aspect of it that we'll explore for our purposes here.

Rather than use Spare's symbols, however, modern magicians realize alize that his work was truly relevant only to his subconscious.

Spare's Alphabet of Desire and other paintings are not universal symbols.

To come up with a symbol that will speak to your hidden consciousness, ness, you have to trick that part of your mind into making a connection with a symbol or sigil during its creation.

The idea is to know why a symbol makes sense during its creation, but then sort of forget the significance nificance upon its completion.

In other words, you should be fully conscious scious of why the squiggles on paper represent your magickal desire while you are designing the sigil.

When you use the sigil in a rite, though, you want the alien look of it to jump past your daytime mode of thought and straight to the hidden parts of your mind.

If you think of daytime consciousness as a mundane barrier to your latent powers, then think of sigils as blades that penetrate the barrier to release a tiny but specific sliver of your potential."

--The Nocturnicon

--------------------------------

This is where many beginners (and even some veterans) of Magic fail.

A Sigil is a personal symbol, with meaning only --or perhaps I should say, mainly-- to it's creator.

This means that using a Sigil created by someone else will either be less effective, or not work at all. Because THEY are the ones who hold the Key to their own creation, and it cannot be passed on.

Not without serious study and work to associate them correctly. (As one would study, for instance, Runes. Although that is a very different topic as Runes have some inherent magic by themselves.)

It is also far too easy to simply draw something pretty, by meaningless.

A Sigil must connect to the innermost part of the person who is to use it. This is vital!

So keep that in mind when you plan to use Sigil magic yourself.

Unless the Sigil speaks to you on a deep, subconscious level, it will not work.

Keep that in mind whenever you work with Sigils. Especially if you consider to use a Sigil created by someone other than yourself.

Mind you, you can use Sigils created by someone else, but it would be like learning a new language well enough to speak it fluently and automatically; A lot of work.

It can be done... but it would likely be easier to just create the Sigil yourself.

--Belial

[leilastarveil]

Chapter 1: The doll’s wish (Vtuber character lore)

A/N:

Hi there! Thanks for taking a look at my little story! First of all I’d like to start with a bit of info. This post details the backstory of Leila Starveil, my vtuber character. I used to be a Twitch vtuber a while ago, but I since then wanted to start over again with a character that better represents me and that I care about more! I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did writing it! I uh… Took an embarrassingly long amount of time to complete this actually, ahah. Annyhow, currently I’m in the process of making the Vroid model for her and I will debut on Twitch as soon as I’m done, but before then I will occasionally stream on the platforms REALITY and Hyper to sort of get back in the rhythm of streaming and also showcasing the way I hold streams to you guys, without having to show you my cringe-worthy old stream VODS lmao.

Links: Post with general information on Leila | Lintree for all of my platforms | Spotify playlist for Leila

TW: This story includes themes of emotional and physical abuse from a parental figure, murder with a fairly detailed scene of the main character dying, and swearing. …Yeah uh, swearing doesn’t sound that bad compared to the other two things I stated, but hey, that can bother people too so I thought I should put it out there.

In this chapter:

Leila is a lonely aristocratic girl that never truly fit who spent most of her early years trying to perfect her artistic skills under the teaching of what seemed to be a kind, skilled artist. Unfortunately, he ended up hurting her far more than becoming the father figure she lacked and hoped he’d be. His concept of perfection is a strict one, and she tries to follow it as much as she could all her life, but eventually his harsh criticism ended up being far too much for her to be happy. She tries to escape this life and tries to make a new one with her closest friend, Maria, but this unfortunately ends in her premature death. In her last moments Leila deeply wishes for a second chance, and though she gets it, it’s not in the form she expected it to be in. Instead of surviving in her own body, she now resides in a life-sized doll of herself. If she is able to get out of her unfortunate current situation, she could find Maria and escape to a better life with her. Whether she is able to, she doesn’t know for certain.

Tap on keep reading if you’d like to see the whole chapter!

Leila had a very comfortable upbringing, at least in terms of food and shelter. The wealth and influence her family had rivaled the weight of their expectations, a sack of boulders she had to carry on her back with every passing day. But still, this was a long, long time ago, long enough to make her miss and have a clouded sense of nostalgia over the perfect cushion quality of her bed, the spacious room she could work on her art in, and the plentiful varieties of food that she didn’t even have to work for. Despite the inaccurate perspective she has of her life now, back then she was a deeply unhappy, lonely child. Oftentimes, good things bring on the horrible, and it was that very way for her. What she lacked was warmth. Not the kind that comes from a fireplace, or the kind you get from laying beneath a comfortable, cloud like blanket in bed, it was the human kind that she yearned for. Her parents never gave her any love, never treated her as anything more than something to bargain off in a mutually beneficial marriage one day. They never took her emotions or hobbies seriously, and even discouraged focusing on them as much as they could, saying she always had her head in the clouds, that she should focus on others rather than the things she loved to do. The truth was a fairly ironic one, because a big part of the reason why she liked art as much as she did was because it was a way to connect with others. It was a way for her to communicate her feelings in a way that she was never allowed to at home, to be truly and honestly herself. She needed that sense of self, needed to perserve it in whatever way she was capable of. The outside world was a place she could escape in, and although actually talking to other people was incredibly difficult, showing off the dolls and paintings she spent a long time learning how to make properly was a big joy of hers. One day, she came across a man that others found strange but admittedly talented, someone she already considered a great artist. To say he was a hermit would be a severe understatement. He never wished to speak to anyone in town, and really only left his home to sell his art or buy food and supplies for painting and dollmaking. Leila saw his art, and she was astonished. She knew the second she saw the similar sadness and loneliness she had in his works, and how beautifully made they were, that she wanted be the kind of artist he was. She excitedly showed him her art one day when she built up the courage to, asking him if she was any good. The painting was incredibly detailed for something made by a girl her age, and he noticed the all too familiar sadness and melancholy in every stroke. Surely, if he could guide her, she’d surpass his abilities one day. So, he started giving her lessons every week to reach just that.

It was a perfect circumstance for the both of them; she had the father figure that she always wished for that could mentor her in her greatest passions, painting and doll making, and he finally had the child he could never have. The death of his wife took a great toll on him, leading him to hate those around him. Everyone just reminded him of how much better and kinder his dearly departed was, so he wanted to have nothing to do with them. The dollmaker chose to live in a modest house outside of town, where he was far enough from everyone to be able to focus on his work. He always wanted to have a child with his wife, and in a strange, sick way, now he could pretend that he did.

The girl didn’t immediately notice his flaws, but in time, she realized just how many flaws he tended to see. He was a compulsive perfectionist with most everything, but especially art, since he considered it sacred. Not only was he so fixated on improving his own works to the point that he would scrap perfectly beautiful pieces all day and night, but he did the very same with Leila. While she was admittedly getting unhappier as time went by, she was still a fairly young child. Leila already had strict parents, so having no close friends to compare backgrounds with, for all she knew this kind of behavior was normal. Unfortunately for the dollmaker, that couldn’t have possibly lasted forever. As Leila grew older, and eventually turned 18, she realized how little memories she had with any people other than her family and her mentor. As much as she wanted to have a friend that truly understood her, she always had a low self-esteem that was made even worse by the harsh criticism she received on a regular basis. She was deeply afraid that if she revealed her true self to others in conversation rather than through art, they would immediately reject her. Plus, she was so focused on improving her art, now obsessed with being perfect just like the dollmaker, so she barely had the time to socialize to begin with. Leila was hoping that through her mentorship she could be more herself than before, but it seemed to have the exact opposite effect.

Maybe unlike him, perfection wasn’t what she wanted most of all. She was only aiming for it to receive what she truly wanted, love and acceptance. But it didn’t seem like she would receive that with her parents, or the dollmaker. Then maybe she would be wise to look elsewhere. She wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but her pure admiration and respect for him was now muddled with resentment.

Leila did something that she never thought she could achieve, and that was making a friend her age she could confide in. A girl of similar social stature to her that was usually reserved, but on the inside was down to earth and warm, just like she was. Leila talked about her life up to that point, and about the many things that weighed on her mind, both at home and in her art lessons. Her new friend, Maria, loved a form of art herself, though it admittedly came in a very different form. She was incredibly passionate about acting and performance art, and especially loved going the concept of being a part of a circus. Maria was more of an extrovert, so it wasn’t much of a surprise she’d be interested in such a thing. Leila wondered if she could be capable of something like that. Because in all honesty, these days, she was wondering if she was even fully capable of the things she already dedicated her life to. Being in front of all those eyes… It’d be impossible for them to not notice cracks in her “perfection”. Still, the concept of being loved and admired while being in front of people for once was a tempting one. Maybe she needed something like that.

She thought loneliness was the culprit to her depression, which was likely true, though in reality that was hardly the last thing that affected her in her day to day life. Making connections was difficult for her, but she was able to to befriend Maria. Now, Leila had something to compare her life to. She slowly realized that the way she was treated wasn’t normal in the slightest. The dollmaker suggested their apprenticeship should continue longer a while before, and she agreed. A part of her started to regret her decision. Still, Leila assumed (or it would be better to describe, hoped) that her being an adult would mean she’d be respected a bit more, that’d she’d be treated a bit nicer by him at least, if not her parents.

That, unfortunately, just wasn’t the case.

Two years passed, and she turned 20. Her mentor was the same as he always. And not only were her parents their usual selves, but now that she was of age, they were more hellbent than they ever were into making her marry a pompous stranger with even more money than their family had. Nothing was getting better. In fact, she was sure she’d live a miserable life where she would be preoccupied molding herself to others wishes whether she stayed with her strict parents that never truly saw her as a person, or if she left with her mentor, someone who cared for her art, but to the point of demanding her to reach an impossible perfection. At some point, his obsessions began disgusting her. She deeply wished she could’ve said something, that she could’ve defended herself when he’d barate her for her mistakes. But she was afraid to. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of exactly, because he never harmed her before, but in her was a deep, primitive fear whenever she even imagined standing up to him. The need to retaliate in some way got so bad that her mind started working towards finding something, anything she could do, no matter how small and insignificant her temporary solution would be. It was petty, really, what she decided to do. While her mentor wasn’t around, Leila sneaked up to one of his paintings, one that he expressed great pride over. She added one single small black line with the smallest brush she could find, in an area of the piece where the likelyhood for him to notice were slim. She didn’t even want him to notice at all, and it was unlikely for him to. Still, the concept of her being able to alter one of his pieces and make it “imperfect” as he often altered hers to make them what he considered to be perfect, it gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. It was a temporary satisfaction to ease the stress she was under.

Maria made a suggestion to her. She was frankly as sick of the mundane, limiting lifestyle they had as Leila was, and it lead her to suggest something Leila didn’t even consider. Running away. As much as home was suffocating, the young artist wasn’t one to make rash, impulsive decisions that could very negatively effect their lives. She deeply wanted freedom, yes, but that would come with the cost of leaving behind the comfort and security that her family’s money brought. She’d need to live a completely different life. …But still, Leila wouldn’t be alone. Maybe, just maybe, having the only person that she felt she could be herself around would be enough to help her adapt to what the future would bring.

Eventually, Leila realized the best thing she could do for herself. She respected the dollmaker, initially seeing him as a free soul that could, in turn, free her. But in actuality, all that she did was leave one bird’s cage and enter another. She loved him as one would love their father, and really, deep down, she couldn’t shake off her attachment to her parents despite their lack of involvement in her life. She loved them, too. It hurt her, but it was a matter of choosing which poison to go with. A free life where your tomorrow is uncertain, or letting yourself be everyone’s doll to ensure you won’t ever need for food or shelter. What seems prefarable can depend on each person, and for Leila, she realized she’d want to leave above all else. If she would be cornered, she promised herself that she would find an escape, no matter how difficult it could be.

She tried to muster every bit of courage she was capable of, and, with an anxious mind, packed her bags in the dead of night. Her guilty conscience nagged at her in the back of her mind when she stole a good amount of her mother’s and father’s money from their wallets, but she knew she’d need it if she wanted to survive on her own. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that her parents would at all understand her leaving (plus, she couldn’t risk them finding out she stole money), so clearly, she didn’t consider saying goodbye to them as an option. Would the same apply to the dollmaker, she wondered. Leila didn’t think he’d react too badly, at least not as badly as her parents. Afterall, he was her teacher, not her parent. This kind of relationship doesn’t come with the assumption you would stick around them and keep contact forever. Still, Leila couldn’t help but have a bit of an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of confronting him like this. Maybe if she was as headstrong as Maria, she could’ve done this far more easily. As much suffering as her mentor caused her, she felt guilty just leaving without saying a thing. Before meeting up with Maria to leave, she dropped by his home, fully expecting him to be in a deep sleep at this hour of the night. She neared a table in the atelier part of his home where they worked on their art everyday, unable to avoid glancing around in a melancholic nostalgia at her surroundings. The basement was specifically used as storage for art supplies and completed works, yet due to how disorganized the two were, boxes of threads and painting supplies littered floor and tables nonetheless. It was funny. Wasn’t Leila leaving because she was miserable here, along with at her own home?

As soon as Leila placed the goodbye note down without even looking its way, a specific memory came to her, one that wasn’t from too long ago. The painting… She vaguely remembered it being in that very pile. Looking back, it was kind of cowardly of her. Instead of doing something to actually improve her life, she wanted to scratch the itch of revenge just a bit, enough to maintain her sanity for a while longer. She didn’t solve anything. Did he even notice? He didn’t say anything up until now, so most likely not. When he would notice, though, he’d know it was her. Leila didn’t want to leave things like this. With a guilty expression, she knelt down in front of the pile, looking for the canvas that she needlessly stained. Aha, there it is. She knew it was somewhere in that area. Leila set the canvas on one of the work tables, quickly grabbing a set of paints to cover the black line with. If she did a good job, it would be like it never happened at all. To her shock and horror, she heard something. Creaking from upstairs, no doubt from footsteps. The wooden floor boards ensured that there would be no possibility of moving in here without making some noise. Good because she’d be able to instantly hear if her soon to be former teacher woke up, God awful because she herself inevitably made some noise that most likely lead to him awaking to begin with. Leila rushed to pick up the surprisingly heavy canvas and set it down under a few other paintings, as gently as possible as to not break it or any other piece. Her head snapped upwards in alarm as the dollmaker began walking down the stairs. He stopped mid way through, eyeing her in absolute confusion. She was given a key so she could come over and work on projects even when he’d be away, so her being able to get in the house to begin with wasn’t strange. What was strange to him no doubt was why she’d come there at such a late hour.

“Sir! Uh.. How did you sleep?” Leila sheepishly smiled, as if she didn’t look completely suspicious with beads of sweat staining her face and her hands behind her back like she was a child that had just broken a family heirloom.

“Well enough, I suppose…” He kept advancing downwards on the staircase. When he reached the last step, he looked towards her again, concern creeping in on his face. “Are you alright? You never come over so late at night.” He paused, eyes narrowing as he got lost in thought for a moment. “Is this about your parents?” Leila’s heart ached. He seemed genuinely concerned for her. Truly, as harsh as he often was, he never experienced this kind of care from her parents. A part of her began questioning if she still wanted to leave. Without meaning to, her eyes darted towards the stack of paintings and remained on them. Quite a bit of them were made by her. Leila would spend hours working on something, only to have the dollmaker force him to discard it and start over again. The only way she was still able to finish so many things was because she was pressured to work to improve constantly, to the point she’d barely do anything else. Suddenly, she remembered how painful her time here has been. After enough familiarity, it’s easy to let nostalgia cloud your vision. Leila knew that for her happiness’ sake, she should never let that happen. “Leila? Why are you looking there?” The dollmaker walked closer, making her body tense up in anxiety. He’d notice the slightest differences in her bahavior. Truly, he had the eye of a critic.

Suddenly, he went completely quiet.

Leila looked to him, biting her lip nervously. The 40 year old had picked up the piece of paper while she was avoiding eye contact. He must’ve already read it now, because his eyes only stared at the center, lifelessly and emotionlessly.

“Leila…’ He looked up with a serious expression. “You never mentioned planning to leave.”

“W-Well, uh, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing-“

“And you wanted to tell me through a letter? You didn’t want to give me a chance to even respond to you?” The beginning signs of him losing his temper were rearing their head. His expression wasn’t exaggerated, but it was accusatory. If Leila didn’t know him so well, she would’ve underestimated the feeling stirring up in him. They usually take a while to fully erupt.

“I’m really sorry, but… I knew you’d get mad. I needed to at least give you a letter, I didn’t feel right leaving just like that.” This was the only thing Leila could say in response. She couldn’t say that she fully expected him to freak out, to be beyond angry, but that was more accurately what she assumed. She looked downwards, too anxious to maintain eye contact. In avoiding eye contact, she made a horrifying realization.

In her rush to hide the painting, she didn’t even properly hide the part with the line underneath the canvas above it. It was jutting out, ready to be noticed and gawked at by the dollmaker. It’s almost like she wanted to self-sabotage, with how stupid of a mistake she considered it to be. Quickly, she looked away to avoid suspicion.

“You never had to make money to sustain yourself. You don’t know how cruel the life outside a mansion’s walls is. Do you expect to be able to fend for yourself?”

Leila couldn’t hold herself back from looking up at him when she heard his words. “How am I supposed to learn to fend for myself if I never experienced the world for myself?”

He groaned in frustration. Over time, it seems more and more like he was actively trying to calm himself down, to minimal success. “Okay, clearly you’re doing this because of your parents, right? So like every teenager you wanted to run away. Let me go with you, at least. Don’t be stupid. We both know you’re not fit to survive on your own .” Leila’s eye twitched, a feeling of anger bubbling inside her that mirrored the man fully. The dollmaker loved nothing more than to make her feel useless. Her mind drifted back to her past, remembering the many situations where she wanted to do something on her own, as insignificant as buying art supplies, and he demanded he’d go with her because either she wouldn’t get the right kind, she’d get attacked, she’d get lost, whatever other ludicrously unlikely scenerio he could make up. Leila was a 20 year old, yet she felt like she had the life experiences of an overprotected 14 year old. She couldn’t stand it anymore, frankly.

“I’m an adult. I feel like you keep forgetting that. I’m not an idiot, I’m not weak, and I’d really like to see the world for myself for once so I can actually see what I want to do with my life.”

“Don’t you fucking talk back to me!” With gritted teeth, the man walked forward and grabbed onto Leila’s shoulders roughly. Her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage, her whole mind overtaken with fear and unpleasant thoughts about what he could do. He never did anything to hurt her physically before… But in that moment, she was convinced he would. How could she not, with how he was behaving? “I feel like you keep forgetting you need me. Don’t get fucking cocky. You’re talented, but you’re so far from perfect! You need me to refine you, you need me to-“

“Well maybe I don’t want to be perfect!” Leila surprised even herself with the sudden raise in her tone. The girl was deeply afraid for her life, but even that didn’t prevent her from impulsively talking back. Maybe it was years of staying quiet finally catching up to her, reaching their limit. She never showed such outright anger to him before. Maybe knowing she’d be leaving soon also got her confidence she wouldn’t otherwise have. “Hell, I-I, I don’t even know how you keep expecting me to reach perfection. I’m a human. Humans can’t be perfect.” Leila began stuttering when her rational side reminded herself that she may need to be careful with her words, despite how much he deserves to be yelled at. She looked at him, squirming in his hold. He only tightened his grip, making her freeze.

The dollmaker paused. Despite looking at her with such love and worry only moments earlier, all that was in his eyes were hatred. Leila felt like there were two very different people inside of him taking turns to be in control of his body. She never knew which she’d get, though talking to him this way almost guaranteed she’d get his less kinder face. “You’ve changed. You used to be such a good girl. Now you’re filled with pride, it disgusts me!” Really, if anything happened, it’s just that she sneaked out of his control and has her own thoughts for one. So it makes perfect sense he’d be angry like this, when he’s losing control. Leila asked herself if she’d really like to keep being on the sinking ship that is this conversation, especially when she has a ticking time bomb right next to her, waiting to be seen by the dollmaker. If she were to try to better hide it under the pile of art, then she’d only attract unwanted attention towards what she’s trying to hide.

“Look, I’m sorry I made you angry, I really wanted to have a normal conversation with you, even though from the beginning I knew you’d react like this. Can we just… Be nice to each other? I don’t want my last memory here to be like this.” Leila tried to keep her voice steady, though in all honesty, she still felt absolutely terrified of the man in front of her. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the best wording she could possibly go for. You’d think so much experience in walking on eggshells around him would make her good at it, but still, it didn’t work. If anything, he seemed even more hurt and offended.

“Oh no, Leila. You’re not leaving. We’re not done here.” Words uttered with unwavering confidence, something both scary and insulting to have when it comes to someone else’s decision. Knowing there’s no way to convince someone as stubborn as her former mentor, the only way out would be by forcing her way through. With adrenaline pumping in her veins, Leila tried rushing past him towards the door.

That was short lived, unfortunately. It didn’t take long for him to reach her, grabbing onto her arm roughly. She struggled with all her might, but it wasn’t enough. She froze when she heard a calm question from the dollmaker. “Leila, come here and take a look at something with me.” It was downright eerie, the way he was talking. It reminded her of times when there was peace between them, when he was in one of his more relaxed moods. He could switch so seamlessly… Why didn’t Leila notice something was so wrong about him earlier? Even as a child she should’ve had the survival instincts to run away, yet she trusted him more than she did her own father. She scolded herself for being this naive. She didn’t reply, only giving him a confused stare. Seeing a general lack of reaction, he decided to instead pull at her arm, showing he was still in the same state of anger, despite acting differently. What his thought process was, was something beyond her. He lead her back to the pile of canvases, making her heart beat even heavier in anxiety. Did he notice? He must’ve… After all, he directed his gaze to the source of her worries, then to her. “You really thought I didn’t notice. How fucking idiotic. You really thought I wouldn’t check on the state of my most prized possessions.”

“W-What are you talking about…?” Leila played dumb, a game she was rather good at. Not good enough to fool him, though. He was convinced, his expression not showcasing any doubt whatsoever.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know! The painting, the fucking painting, ‘Ever-watching Moon’, you ruined it, didn’t you?” He grit his teeth, letting out a shaky breathe. “I saw it months ago… But like a moron I actually believed in you enough to think you wouldn’t do this. But seeing the way you’re acting now, you fucking did it, I know!”

“I-I swear, I didn’t do it intentionally, it was a mistake, I-“ Leila’s stomach sank even just admitting it was done by her, despite still lying about whether or not it was a mistake. She was apparently right to get a sinking feeling, because in a quick motion, she was slapped in the face with so much force she stumbled and nearly fell. She cowered, breathing shakily and holding her cheek where she was hit. She made herself smaller, unable to convince herself to look up to him anymore.

“Shut up! Shut up, I hate lies… That painting means a lot to me, and you stained it for no reason. Why the fuck did I ever trust you?” Leila was asking herself the same question. Why did she trust him? “I can’t believe you’d do that. It was perfect, it was a masterpiece, you know how difficult it is for me to reach the same perfection…” Tears started collecting in the man’s eyes. “The same as her. You disrespected it. Her perfection.”

“H-Her…?” Leila couldn’t help but peer up, looking confused. She was even more surprised to see him cry, though it didn’t make his anger any less present. He didn’t seem to want to answer. His eyes went blank, almost like he was in a trance. The dollmaker was always stuck in the past, but in that moment, it was to the point he wasn’t present in the moment at all. This, albeit being unnerving to see, made for a possible way out. With him so spaced out, she tried to slowly back away from him, hoping she was subtle enough to not be immediately noticed. For a few seconds, it worked, up until he directed his dead stare back to her, looking slightly more “there” than earlier.

“Leila…” She froze up. “Thank you.” The dollmaker gave her an eerie smile, possibly the most lifeless and least happy smile she’d ever see. “You taught me an important lesson. You proved to me that humans can’t be perfect. I thought that she was perfect because she put the work in to reach her state, but that wasn’t the case.” The man’s demeanor made her stuck in place. It was unbelievably unusual, having him suddenly agree with her. He took the canvas that she painted over in his hands. It was… Still fascinating to Leila, how he could lose his mind over something that wasn’t beyond fixing. Maybe it was the simple act of disrespect that offended him so, but still it was an overreaction. …DId he calm down, though? Suddenly his anger seemed to evaporate. “Most of us are like her at first. Like you used to be. But over time, like a flower we wither. Perfection is a temporary, delicate art. I’m sorry I didn’t know this sooner.. For you, and for me.” …His speech was beginning to go back to being absolutely confusing. It seemed like he derived a meaning from what she said that she was regretting instilling in him. “Leila, I’m really sorry for acting that way. I was being unreasonable… Did- Did I hurt you badly?” …Hm. Again, he was showing fatherly concern for her. Thankfully, she might’ve gotten his regular self back… She wasn’t at ease completely, but she felt like she could potentially talk to him now. Which was a relief. As much as she hated him, she also loved him, so didn’t want to end their mentorship like this. It was a complicated emotion. Leila looked downward for a moment to collect her thoughts, then looking up and opening her mouth.

“I’m… Okay, it just stung a bi-“ Leila didn’t have enough time to react, resulting in a sharp, agonizing impact in her head accompanied with her ear-piercing scream. Not that it would be loud enough for anyone to hear, given how far his home was from town. It took a good few seconds for her to even realize what had hit her due to how confused and dizzy the damage caused her. A canvas that shattered in half due to the strength of the hit, the painting on it of a night sky with a moon overlooking the ocean. “Ever-watching Moon”. The titular moon always made her uncomfortable. A huge eye was painted on the surface of it in darker shades than the base of the moon. It watched her in her vulnerable state. It reminded her of him, and it made her feel nauseous. The one who did this to her, the man that was the closest thing she had as a genuine father. She quickly fell to the ground, letting out sounds of pain that were quieter than before as she struggled to even stay conscious.

“I’m sorry, Leila. I should’ve done this sooner, before the outside influenced you and tainted you.” Despite her current state, she couldn’t help but react with an outraged expression mixed with a pained one. He was apologizing for not killing her earlier? She wanted to give such a disgusting, uncaring man a second chance. Truly, she never stopped being naive. She shouldn’t have gone here to begin with, and now, she didn’t know if she would get to get out alive. The dollmaker started dragging her on the ground, making her blood drag across the wooden flooring she spent most of her childhood on. He didn’t care about her. His concern from seconds ago was just to fool her, and who knows if he ever showed genuine concern or affection before. It wasn’t complicated anymore. She despised him. Even his name, even his face, everything about him, she didn’t want to remember it. But even if she were to survive this, could she truly forget it all? The dollmaker dragged her down the stairs of the basement, where they would usually store supplies. He set her down momentarily when he reached a shelf. Leila tried her best to make significant movement, but it only made her feel much more pain. He pushed the bookshelf to the side, then picked her back up.

“W-What are you…” Her eyes widened slightly as she saw what was behind the shelf. A door she never saw before, not once since she was a child. Why was this hidden away?

“Showing you what I worked on for you all these years.” And that was the only form of explanation he gave before he opened the door. Inside there were three dolls, all scarily realistic and life sized. Two wardrobes were on each side of the room, but besides that, it was fully empty. One of the dolls immediately caught her eye. And really, how could it not? The features, the hair, even the kind of clothes she wore, it looked exactly like her. The dollmaker roughly threw her in front of the doll, making her hiss in pain. She was faced with the beautiful gown the creepily accurate doll of her wore without being able to move much at all. She felt terribly uncomfortable being in this room in general, but especially facing that thing. “Humans change. But these dolls will stay the same. The soul, the heart I put into them, it’ll survive after you and I are gone. I just hope that who would find them after we pass will treat them with the kind of respect perfection deserves.” The dollmaker’s words were spoken perfectly calmly, like he was merely making small talk. “My wife… Her passing was a blessing.” The man crouched down in front of her, looking down coldly. “Her pure soul survived. It didn’t have the chance to be tainted.” He smiled and laughed, the sound making Leila shiver. “Unlike yours. Please, talk to your new friends.” He motioned to the dolls. “They make great company.” With that, he got up, then walked away. Panic surged through Leila’s veins as she heard him leave, and shut the door. Not only that, but he also seemed to have pulled the shelf in front of the door yet again. It was clear as day he wanted to make sure she’d die here. He wouldn’t be coming back. He wouldn’t apologize and take care of her wounds. And the more blood she was losing, the more the fear of death maddened her. Her drive for survival was the only thing keeping her from passing out.

…

She looked up to the doll of herself. It seemed to be her current age. The dress she wore was an elaborate one, something she would wear during a ball her parents would hold. It was midnight blue, a similar shade that was used in the Ever-watching Moon. She guessed the lunatic liked that color quite a bit. Leila did too, before now. The doll’s expression was souless. Of course it was souless, it’s a doll, but what made it frightening was the mixture of human features and inhuman eyes. It just smiled, ever so slightly, eyes fixed in front of it. It reminded Leila of the dollmaker. That must be why he enjoyed the company of dolls so much. They were just as souless and heartless as him.

…

“Maria… Oh fuck, Maria, why did I do this to you…” Leila spoke out, though her voice was rather weak. She did feel the need to speak. Ideally, to Maria. Maybe she would think Leila simply ditched her and ran off alone? …Even if she wouldn’t, the fact that she made her worry about her safety would still cause her great guilt. She didn’t know if her parents would look for her, but her friend, she surely would… The thought of her saving Leila somehow was an appealing one, though an unrealistic dream to have.

…

Leila was growing more and more tired of hanging on. But if she could just force her way up, she could cut one of the dresses of the doll before her and wrap the fabric around her head to prevent further blood loss. Still, she didn’t see anything in the room that could be used for cutting… Maybe there would be something in the wardrobes. …That would require getting up. Leila mustered all the strength she had to get on her knees. After a bit of trying, she was able to sit, and then standing by leaning on the doll. …It was too creepy, looking at herself in the eyes. She never really liked herself, at all, so this made the already uncomfortable situation to be in all the more uncomfortable. She tried to switch to leaning on the wall, but she was far, far too dizzy. She fell on the ground again in trying so. The impact wasn’t a pleasant one, when she already was in loads of pain as it was. She tried her best to sit down again, struggling to keep her balance.

…

Leila looked up to the doll, thinking about what the dollmaker had said. They make great company, hm? Spending time while looking at herself in her last moments on Earth wasn’t the most pleasant thing. It made her think about her regrets, about what she could’ve done differently. The person looking back at her, that was the person who foolishly began talking to the dollmaker as a child. The person who still cared about him and trusted him, to the very end. Trusting him ended in her being here, almost passing out and teetering on the edge of life. She hated herself as much as she hated him. And now she’d need to die while being watched by a sick recreation of the person she hated, created by the second person she hated. She deeply wanted to get away from her, but at this point, she was growing too weak to stand, no matter how hard she tried. She felt it and saw it, she lost a lot of blood. Looking down at the pools beneath her she was wondering how she didn’t die already. …Why didn’t she?

She wanted to live. So, so badly. She wanted to be free to run, to have whatever life she wanted. To be able to reject the people that hurt her, to no longer feel sympathy for people who didn’t deserve it. She wanted happiness. God, why couldn’t she have had a chance to get this? She hated herself but she also felt herself hating her circumstance far more.

“Do you deserve this?” Leila asked herself.

She received no answer.

“I…” It was painful to talk, though she deeply wanted to. Maybe being stuck with herself wasn’t so bad. She always had trouble facing herself, and doing it now could give her some form of closure. “I don’t love you… But I don’t want you to die.” She looked up at herself desperately, hoping in her poor state of mind that she would get a response.

She received no answer.

“F-Fuck, please, no, don’t die… You can improve, without needing to be perfect. You won’t get worse, he was fucking stupid for saying that. Please just don’t die… he’s wrong, he’s wrong…” Leila couldn’t sit properly. She ended up leaning onto the doll of herself, grabbing onto it like it was somehow going to save her.

Leila looked up and begged her. “No, no, no… Please don’t.” Maybe she was growing insane, but she felt like there was someone in the doll that could help her. So she kept going, despite there being no answer, again and again. And she did until she felt her conciousness slipping away from her.

…

She felt nothing but calm. No more pain, no more desperation, nothing. Just a clear head, like she had the best sleep of her life. Leila couldn’t see anything but pure darkness. Was she dead? Was that what being dead was like? A few moments passed like this, before her vision returned to her.

…She was… Standing, in the room she was in before. She was standing like nothing was wrong with her. And truly, she had not one bit of pain remaining. Was that some sort of miracle? Did God hear her pleas? Laughter filled the room, as she was unable to hide her joy. The pure bliss was short lived though, because she quickly spotted something disturbing.

There below her, laid Leila herself. In a pool of her own blood, where she was earlier. She was grabbing onto… Leila’s legs. Her grip was still strong, despite obviously not breathing. It took a good few seconds for Leila to fully wrap her head around her realization. She was in the perspective of her doll replica, with her true self laying dead below her.

Was this a dream, or was this real? And if she truly came back like this, could she even escape, or would she be stuck here until the dollmaker decides to check up on her? She truly didn’t want to know what he’d to to her new form, seeing what he did with the last.

[kat-holden]

This is becoming more of a journal, rather than letters. Nevertheless, sometimes no amount of poetry and short stories can really take the poison out. No amount of allegories and metaphors can help with the ever swirling thoughts of horror I have in my mind. Also, it is becoming so difficult to convince you to separate art from the artist, although I do my best. There are times my mask slips and only in these "letters" I can let it fully fall.

I am not a cruel person, so I can't simply sit on the other side and tell you what I can type here without thinking what my words would do, what effect they will have on people around me. Call me a cowed, for I am one. I am also not selfish enough to say what I so deeply desire in the last few years. I have reconciled with the thought of my death and the need for me to take my own life. It has become something of an escapism, a twisted one I know.

Thing is I more and more often think of not only wanting to die, but how can I do it. The more I think about it, the more I realize it is way easier than believed. I have the means, I know exactly how much I need to put myself into a coma. If I was more self-centered I would have done it by now. But you see, I am that pathetic that I think "But what about the others? How would they feel?" How would they feel indeed. There would probably be a mourning period for sure. Confusion, pain and endless questions as "why?".

They always wonder why. The answer maybe is only obvious to me - because I cannot continue living my life. I see no point to it. There is nothing I look forward to, there is nothing I will achieve. I live on borrowed time, because my dear unseen observer, I died a long time ago. I died three times already, but I keep waking up to this nightmare. I died in the apartment of my rapist. I died at the operation table when life was scraped away from me and I died when my body hit the ground from a height that was insufficient and only rendered me unconscious and broken. Truly, I should have died then when I jumped.

Everything that came after that feels like it shouldn't have happened, because I didn't want to be alive. It is ironic how I wanted to forget and escape what happened to me only to leave myself with a scar big enough to be a constant reminder. It is easy for me to connect the dots that by not dying then I really have no reason to continue, life holds no allure for me. And I can hear you say "But you have things to look forward to." And maybe to that other me, the one that did not die three times, these would seem wonderful. To that me 14, 15 years ago all I have now would be the dream. However, that person is not alive and I am just an imposter continuing a life that ended.

I tried to convince myself that it is scary to have a plan of your own demise. I tried to really dig deep down and scare myself, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It would be difficult, for I have left traces in so many people's lives, but there's always a way to push them away, make them hate me and then just walk away and die in peace. It is insanely easy to get lost, when no body is looking for you. And in the end I just need to make sure that even if I get found it would be too late.

It is difficult to explain what exactly I feel and why in order to go into planning such a thing. Maybe it's better that not many people know the feeling. It is even better that you will never have such feelings. But this is how life goes, some people just can't find their place. Some people don't fit anywhere. Some people are always the odd puzzle piece that randomly got into the pile. Some people are just not supposed to be alive, because it was never meant to happened in the first place.

All of this must sound sad to you, but to me it makes sense.

It would have made things easier if I didn't leave traces in people's lives.

[healthcarespeed]

A Few Things To Understand Wellness And Health

What do the words health and wellness truly translate to? Health is an active process of reaching and maintaining a healthy state, not simply an absence of disease or illness. Exercise, eating a healthy diet and getting adequate rest are all essential to healthy. This could also mean not smoking, limiting alcohol use and avoiding unprotected sex.

Exercise

The benefits of exercise can decrease your risk of suffering from chronic diseases and prolong your lifespan. The body is able to control the levels of insulin and blood sugar and lowers inflammation, cholesterol and high blood pressure. Exercise can improve the functioning of the hippocampus, which is a brain area that's involved in learning and memory. Additionally, it can safeguard you from Alzheimer's. Exercise also increases the strength of muscles and tendons, and increases flexibility, decreasing your risk for joint pain.

Minimum two hours of moderate intensity, and one hour of intense intensity should be done per week. It can be done with activities such as walking, biking, swimming and dancing. Having a workout partner can make exercise more fun and aid in staying consistent. Begin slowly, and then gradually increase your fitness level when you're just beginning to exercise. Talk to your doctor before embarking on a new exercise routine. It is important to consult your physician in case you have a medical issue or injury.

Eat Right

It is essential to eat well in order to maintain good health. It isn't easy to determine what's best for your body, as there are many different opinions among people.

For a healthy diet it is important to select foods with a high amount of nutrition and come mostly from nature. Ideally, they should be organic, or at a minimum processed. This includes fresh fruit and vegetables, lean meats, eggs, fish, seeds and nuts. Healthy fats, such as monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats, are also essential to good health. If you want to find out the latest information about health, you've to check here at euclock.org/ site.

The regularity of meals can help keep you energized and help reduce the temptation to overeat. Refraining from eating oily or heavy foods as well as eating dinner no less than three hours before bedtime help digestion, decreases stress levels and promotes better sleep. It's also important to be aware of your eating habits and be able to share your meals with friends as often as you can. Beware of eating excessive amounts of sugar, added salt and artificial sweeteners. Last but not least, eat high-quality proteins at every food.

Sleep Well

Sleeping well is just as important to your health as eating healthy and exercising regularly. An unsatisfactory night's sleep can leave you fuzzy-headed and irritable, and chronically poor sleep increases your risk for a lot of grave illnesses in the long run.

Both insomnia and sleep apnea can be effectively treated. Other factors that may affect sleep include discomfort in the bed, noise in your bed, overstimulation prior to the time you go to bed and discomfort.

The key is to develop an established set of behaviors which you refer to as "sleep hygiene" that will promote the restful and healing sleep. It's important to establish an alarm for sleep and make the bedroom cool, dark, and free of foods that can disrupt your sleep such as saturated fat and sugar.

Keep In Touch

Social wellness, in the current time of intense stress is just as vital as physical wellness. If you're enjoying the time with your family and friends taking part in a social or group, participating in an activity that you love like dancing or learning the language of your choice or a martial art, volunteering or going to your place of worship, staying connected with people who you love promotes your mental and emotional well-being.

Although physicians are often working in a tight office, including a query on how often per week you have interaction with other people to the intake questionnaire or form can send a clear message that social contact is a vital component of health and wellness. The inclusion of this information alongside exercises as a fitness prescription can help doctors and patients appreciate the significance of this daily habit. Connecting with friends and family is a fantastic method to build a community both during and after this difficult time.

[mademoisellehypergamy]

✨ CREATING A PERSONA FOR HYPERGAMY & SOCIAL CLIMBING  ✨

The votes are in and “Persona” won! Ladies, get the notebooks out. Class is in session. And this is gonna be a long one.

Be honest with me: Are you currently your ideal woman? The majority of you will probably answer honestly and say no. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that. The harsh reality is most women on their hypergamous journey aren’t even close to being the ideal woman they aspire to be. Hell, the average woman (hypergamous or not) will probably live her life never being able to become that woman, if we’re being completely honest here.

I believe every hypergamous woman should create and adopt a persona. You are who you believe to be. When I was younger, my teachers and parents told me I was academically gifted. So guess what? I believed the same! That pushed me to work even harder in school. Same concept applies here. You are who you believe to be. A persona isn’t a “fake” version of you. It is you. Your ideal person. It is malleable, so it can change at anytime. Just like you changed throughout your life.

STEP 0 - WHY YOU SHOULD ADOPT A PERSONA

✨Not Everyone Will Win the Birth Lottery. But that doesn’t mean you can’t rewrite your past, and repave your future path. Let’s face it: some of you were born into bad circumstances; abusive families, poverty, toxic relationships, obstacles and barriers, etc. And some of you are living lives currently that you aren’t satisfied with: stressful job, health issues, bad environment, *insert sob story here*, blah, blah, blah, woe is me!  But should your current and past conditions get in the way of your hypergamous journey? No! Absolutely not. 

✨You Can’t Be the Same Basic B*tch Forever. Okay b*tch, when you were being “true to yourself” in the past, look where it got you. Probably in a less than favorable situation. Congratulations for being an authentic basic b*tch! 🥳😊

Ladies, change is necessary. When you started your hypergamous journey, you underwent a change. Are you saying your hypergamous self is fake? Of course it isn’t! It’s still you, just an “elevated you”. One that is more aware and knows what she wants. 

✨ Most People Don’t Even Know Who TF They Are. It’s sad, but true. Most people are lost and suppressing their true desires and personality. I’m here encouraging you ladies to create your ideal persona and to become this woman. Because this woman is who you are deep inside, who you want to be. Stop hiding her! Create her, and become her! As long as this person isn’t harming anyone, there is no reason you shouldn’t chase your dream self.

STEP 1 - CHOOSE & CREATE YOUR PERSONA

This is the fun part ladies! Time to choose and create your new persona!

✨ What Kind of Woman Do You Aspire to Be?  Have fun with this ladies! What kind of woman have you always dreamt of becoming? Is she wildly intelligent and beautiful? Or perhaps she has a heart of gold and is adored by all?  Nothing is off limits. This is you.

For those of you who are truly struggling, below I have included a few examples of common personas. If you don’t know where to begin, choose one as the “foundation” and build on it. Make it your own!

*Disclaimer: Anyone that I mentioned/included below is simply for inspiration. Not all of these women are hypergamous. This is just for inspiration*

1. The Socialite/ The “It” Girl: This is the girl that everyone knows. She’s always at a party with a glass of champagne, wearing the latest styles, and living the BEST life. She’s glamorously unattainable and few have access to her, but somehow she’s a part of every social circle.

Inspiration: Jamie Chua (https://www.instagram.com/ec24m/)

2. The Traveler: This is the girl that travels constantly. Whether it’s across the globe or to a different state/town, she’s always on the go! No one seems to know how she funds her lifestyle because she always appears to be traveling and never working. Her pictures are always on point and high quality, with a combination of bikini pictures, relaxing scenery, exotic foods, and endless hotels.

Inspiration: Jennifer Tuffen (https://www.instagram.com/izkiz/)

3. The Influencer: Think of the ultimate Instagram Baddie; perfect body (usually because of surgery), full lips, carefully applied makeup, nails always done, hair on point. She is sponsored by all the clothes brands, and lives lavishly. She’s always out at a restaurant and traveling. Typically dresses in more revealing clothes/lots of bikinis.  What differentiates her from the Socialite? The degree of elegance and class. While the Socialite gives you an “heiress” vibe, the Influencer is more on the “flashy celebrity” side.

Inspiration: Kaylar Will (https://www.instagram.com/kaylarwill/)

4. Femme Fatale: She rarely posts on social media, but when she does, it only makes you question her existence more. This girl is beautifully sensual, and her social media only reveals bits and pieces of her life. She is an entire mystery, no one knows about her private life. One day she’ll be flying from London, the next she’ll be visiting an art gallery  She’ll sometimes post images of gifted roses with poetry captions. She oozes seduction and dark mystery. 

Inspiration: Dita Von Teese (https://www.instagram.com/ditavonteese) Now I thought long and hard about who to choose for this one, and if you take a moment to look at Dita’s IG account, you will understand why. You will notice that the ONLY thing she posts about is her clothes/lingerie brand or things relating to business. She reveals nothing about her personal life. Every post is promotion about her business. In fact, the last time she posted something about her “life” was on October 8th when she posted her CAT modeling another designer’s scarf. She’s a very discreet woman, and it works in her favor.

5. Girl Next Door: You know that basic b*tch that’s SUPER popular for no reason? This is her. From her Starbucks to her Tiktoks, she’s just your average girl living her life. In a way, she isn’t a threat because she seems approachable, relatable, and friendly enough through social media. Something about her aspires others that they can achieve a similar lifestyle. She’s terribly basic, but somehow, it works. 

Inspiration: Loren Gray (https://www.instagram.com/loren/)

6. Exotica: *This persona is best suited for women of color* She is exotically beautiful and unique. She is a trendsetter, not a follower. She has an air of heightened sexuality, with a touch of grounded-spirituality. Something about her is wild and untamed, and she oozes excitement and adventure. 

Inspiration: Monica Leon, or “Danger”. Now if you’re in my generation, you may remember the reality show “For the Love of Ray J” (which was ghetto btw💀). To this day, one girl that I will NEVER forget on that show, was “Danger”, the girl with the tiger tattoo on her face and that NO ONE liked, but Ray J was obsessed with. Although she no longer is on Instagram (and has since legally changed her name), I still believe she naturally embodied that exotic and mysterious woman persona. I recommend watching the show for free on Youtube just to observe her (and only her because the other women were pickme’s  💀)

7. The Luxurious Diamond: This woman is the epitome of class and elegance. She exudes femininity and grace, and holds an air of mystery by only showing us bits and pieces of her life. What we see is soft luxuries, wineries, beautiful clothes/scenery, and a life of comfort. She balances a mature, elegant, ladylike presence, with subtle girly-youthfulness. 

Inspiration: Г-жа Анисимова   https://www.instagram.com/creme_de.la_femme/

✨How Does She Look Like? From her hair to how she wears her makeup, be able to create a vivid description of her appearance. Being able to do this will show you where to work on with your current appearance.

✨Personality We all have traits about ourselves that we don’t like. This is your chance to identify your traits that you love and maximize them, while also working on the aspects of your personality that are a bit more problematic.

It’s important to recognize that some “negative” traits are not really negative. Society just shames us for them. For example, “The Socialite” persona may be polite, but that doesn’t mean she’s super open and friendly with everyone. Not everyone is her friend, and she is naturally unattainable. So why would she be super friendly to everyone? Some may call her “standoffish”, but I call it “selective”.

✨Past Self? Not a Problem.  So let’s say you had a less than perfect childhood and endured a lot of trauma. Not a problem, just reinvent your past! Now I’m not saying to straight up lie and make up a crazy story about how you grew up with billionaire parents and traveled the globe. I’m saying adopt a realistic story that’ll help you on your journey. 

For example, if your date were to ask about your past, instead of telling him how tragic your childhood was and how you were homeless and abused by your parents, and no longer have a relationship with them, you can say: “I moved around a lot as a child (“homelessness”), so I really enjoyed being able to interact with a lot of different people (make the negative seem positive). My parents still move around a lot, so it’s hard for us to meet (explains why you aren’t in contact with your parents). 

Reword and reframe, ladies. Not everyone needs to know everything.

STEP 2 - BRING HER TO LIFE

✨Remove. You cannot embrace your new persona, your new IDENTITY, if you are still stuck in the past. And that includes past connections that do not serve you. Some of your old friends (college friends, childhood friends, etc.) are not meant to accompany you on this journey. And that’s OKAY. Same with other toxic relationships in your life, family included. You will have to decide who to keep, and who to distance yourself from.

✨ Social Media! I’ve mentioned this in an earlier post, but social media is the easiest way for you to push your new persona. You control the content that goes on your social media, so even if you haven’t fully embodied your new persona, you can sure as hell fake it on social media. 

- Unless your persona is a socialite/influencer type, avoid posting too often. - Be consistent; if you retouch your images, make sure its consistent with all your photos. - Be mindful of what people tag you in/post about you. You know that “friend” who always posts the ugliest pictures of you? Yeah. They’re not your friend, hun. 

✨Dress. The. Part. Okay, sis. You can have the personality down perfectly, but if the look doesn’t match, no one will buy it. Your look is the first thing people notice, so invest in it. It doesn’t cost a lot, especially with fast fashion sites like Shein that sells clothes for $5. Just be able to keep up the appearance.

✨ Immerse Yourself in the Environment.  Looking the part and having the right personality is not enough, ladies! It wouldn’t make sense for you to be a “Socialite” sharing pictures of you eating at Red Lobster and Olive Garden every night. It wouldn’t make sense for the “Traveler” persona to share only bathroom selfies in her apartment. You have to live like the woman you aspire to be, and that includes placing yourself in those environments.

If you are not in the place financially to do so, learn to project the image without spending money. Ex: If you can’t afford to go to Hawaii, go to your local beach and take bomb ass pictures. Don’t tag the location. People will automatically see a beach in your picture and assume you are on vacation traveling. Get creative, ladies. 

✨You Owe Them Nothing. Ladies! Remember you don’t owe anyone anything. Not an explanation, not your time, nothing. So if you are living this new persona and people are asking questions you don’t want to answer: don’t. This is your life. 

STEP 3 - YOUR PERSONA WHILE DATING HYPERGAMOUSLY & SOCIAL CLIMBING

So now that you have created your ideal persona, and taken the steps to incorporate it into your life, how can you use your newfound persona to aid you on your hypergamous journey and while social climbing?

✨Infiltrate New Circles. Your persona should be someone exciting and enticing. People love befriending people who are happy and adventurous. Use your persona to befriend others and enter new social circles. You can do this through: - Social media; follow similar accounts to yours and interact with them. - Activities related to your persona; Let’s say you adopted the “The Luxurious Diamond” persona and started visiting wineries. You may notice when you go that there are regulars; identify the regulars and use your common interest of wine to strike a conversation. -Interest groups; join clubs/groups that help you reach your goals. For example, “The Traveler” may have always wanted to travel to Bali, but didn’t want to go alone. She joins a travel group to meet other likeminded inviduals and meets a travel buddy. This person ends up introducing her to others who also enjoy traveling.

✨ Be a Chameleon. You should  never be set on just one persona. Like I said earlier, your persona should always be malleable. You should be able to change yourself to your benefit, and always be open to expansion. When it comes to dating, a man may “want” a certain type of woman, but the secret is that most men just want a woman who is open to possibilities.  I remember a man who used to be on my roster who loved music. This man was always insisting on taking me to operas and symphonies. And he too was a musician (I really don’t like dating musicians, but that’s a topic for another day), so whenever he was performing he would have me sitting in the box so I’d have an “undisturbed” experience.  Now ladies, I’m not into music AT ALL.  But I was open and willing, and guess what? The man adored it, and he adored me even more! He spoiled me like crazy and would serenade me with music he wrote about me because I was his “muse”. Although I ended up ghosting him, I definitely appreciate a good opera now! 

✨Be Larger than Life to Entice. The attractive part about these personas is the fact that it feels almost fake. The image that is portrayed is almost mythical, like something out of a fantasy. You can’t believe this girl is traveling so much, or you can’t believe this girl still has a social life in the middle of a pandemic! It’s unbelievable, but that’s what makes us so intrigued. Men especially love fantasy. That’s why many men have a “dream girl”, a woman that embodies their physical and emotional fantasies. They love the impossible. It’s also important to remember that you are always being watched. People see you, whether in person or on social media, and when they see someone or something more interesting than their mundane life, curiosity will get the best of them. They’ll be drawn to you and want to know you.

✨ The Persona Advantage. Creating a persona is supposed to help your journey. The purpose is to reinvent yourself into someone who will help you better navigate your hypergamous life.  For example, if you are trying to get into more exclusive, affluent circles, creating a persona who is skilled in social and dining etiquette would be more beneficial than a persona that’s an Instagram Influencer. Being an Instagram Baddie that wears Fashion Nova won’t help you at a Charity Gala. So be sure to think of what you desire in life to shape yourself into that. Don’t just become someone who won’t get you to where you want to be. 

This post will definitely have a Part 2 in the future, but in conclusion: You can be whoever you want to be as long as you play the role. Be an actress in your own life, and live the life you desire.

Well ladies, I’ll be away for Valentine’s day weekend. Wishing you all a wonderful and safe weekend ❤️ Lots of love.

Follow my IG for more: @mademoisellehypergamy

[artzee-bee]

Popularity is overrated anyways | Rory Keaner x gn!popular!reader

Fandom: My babysitter’s a vampire

Request: “ Hello! Your writing is so amazing, truly! Could you write Rory x Gn!Popular!Reader in which the reader falls hard and so they try flirting and try to impress him? I think that would be an interesting dynamic to explore cause I usually see things going the other way around. No need to take this request if you don't want to write it of course! Have a great day/night<33 “

Pronouns: none specified

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

~~~

The first time you saw Rory was in art class. It was your first day and you were somewhat nervous, but he walked in as if he owned the place. He yelled "Good morning gays, gals and pals" with this kind hearted smile and you couldn't help but laugh at how comfortable he was around here. How he seemed to be at home. 

At the end of class, you decided to walk up to him, say hello. At the very least learn his name, except by the time you were done packing your things, he was gone. You felt a little lost looking at the empty seat he sat in just a moment ago but you were already dead set on getting to know the blonde kid better.

Since then, you've made lots of friends, partly due to you joining the photography club, which was pretty well known around the school. You were also best friends with the star of the football team which sure gave you a big boost on the popularity chart, not that you cared. Even with your newfound attention, you still felt like you were a little behind Rory. You'd see him every week in art class, always cracking a joke, making you and everyone else around him laugh. You often saw him hanging out with the same 2 brown haired boys and you couldn't help the jealousy you were feeling, so eventually you decided you've had enough. You were going to get closer to Rory!

The perfect opportunity snuck up on you one Friday, when you saw Rory eating lunch in the cafeteria alone. You excused yourself from your friends, making your way instead towards the blonde

"Is this seat open?" you said motioning to the seat right in front of him

"Yeah!" he replied with a bright smile, as if he was more than excited that you wanted to sit with him "I'm Rory!"

You sat down and gave him your name in return. From where you were sitting, you could see your friends.They were sitting around their usual table, glaring at you as if they couldn't understand what you could possibly be doing there, instead of by them. In fact, mostly everyone in the cafeteria was now watching you and Rory with judging looks. You knew Rory wasn't the most popular person in school, but you also didn't care. For what it's worth, he seemed to be a lot cooler than any other "popular" kid you knew.

"Is that a V for Vendetta pin on your shirt?" he asked, reaching over to touch the little handmade pin you had. You felt his fingertips press into your collarbone and sucked in a deep breath, suddenly shy at the unexpected contact

"Yeah! I made it myself out of an old coin a while back!"

"That's so cool! I used to make pins out of beer bottle caps when I was little! I didn't actually drink the beer, I would sneak the caps from my parents at family events!"  you giggled. You barely knew the boy and yet this seemed like such a ‘him’ thing to do

"And how did you make them?"

For the entire lunch break, you sat next to Rory, listening to him talk about his pins and his favorite comic books, which just so happened to match a lot of your favorites. You were more than excited by finding out that you had a lot in common. You liked the same bands and the same movies. He was full of stories about the supernatural and you have always been passionate about that kind of stuff.  

You always knew you kinda fancied the blonde boy and you weren’t ashamed of that, but now, actually being with him, talking to him, connecting with him, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach was almost insufferable.His mere presence was making you dizzy. He was so cute and his smile was worth millions. You loved listening to him talk and seeing his bright eyes sparkle with joy, but than the bell rang and you had to leave for your next class

"I had fun talking to you Rory!”

"Thank you, you're really cool, we should hang out more!" he said, making you blush

From that point on, you and Rory were much closer. You would hang out during school hours usually, which bummed you out, since you really saw Rory as more than a ‘convenience’ friend that you got along with simply because you saw each other almost everyday. You wished you could get closer to him, get to know him more intimately, but you didn’t want to push him into anything. The week after your first real interaction, Rory came to sit next to you in art. You were too engulfed in the video you were watching on your phone to notice when he walked in, but he made sure to make his presence known by wrapping his arms around you from behind

"Hi friend!" he said in a sing-song voice that made you giggle. He dragged his chair as close to you as he could, so you 2 could whisper to each other during class. Now, being so close to him, you could hear each of his sarcastic jokes and clueless questions better, each one making you laugh and smile. At times, he would lean into you to whisper something in your ear and you could feel his breath on your skin, sending shivers through your entire body.

One thing you learned about Rory during art class was just how competitive he was. Each class turned into a game of seeing who was the better artist. You weren't a huge fan of drawing, but you gave it your everything knowing that Rory was going to study your picture. He never said anything bad about it, he was too nice for that, but with each drawing you tried to impress him more and more.

Eventually, one day, you noticed Rory heading out of the school and decided to quickly followed him out

"Hey Rors! Wait up!!"

"Hey Y/N, wazzap?" he said in the funny voice he always made, making you smile

"All is good. I just had a question for you"

"Ok, shoot!"

"Are you free Saturday?" the boy looked at you with a confused smile

"I think so, yes. Why?"

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

"Yeah! That sounds awesome!! Who's coming?" his eyes were bright with excitement, only making you more nervous

"I mean...I was thinking it could be just the 2 of us..."

"Just us?"

"Yeah, you know. Like a date..."

"A date?"

"Yeah"

"With me?"

"I mean if you want to, I'm not..."

"I would love to!" he smiled

"You-You would?"

"Yeah, sounds awesome!"

"Ok, um, great! Can I get your number so I can text you the details?"

On your way home, you held the little piece of paper with Rory's number in your closed fist, your face hot from excitement and happiness. God, you could barely wait for Saturday!

[gingercauldron]

Quiet Brilliance (Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader)

A/N: Here is my offering to the Criminal Minds fandom. Also this is my first time really writing fanfic? Just really wanted to have Spencer impressed by the reader and fall in love with them. So I hope you enjoy!! This is totally not an excuse to somehow make random stuff I’ve read about relevant in BAU cases lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader

Synopsis: Spencer notices how intelligent you really are, as well as how shy you are about it. He can’t stop thinking about you, your brilliance, and how much he just wants to hold you.

Warnings: None really, just fluff, and normal Criminal Minds content

Wordcount: 1.9k

No one in the BAU seemed to give you enough credit.

Not that it was their intention, of course, but Dr. Spencer Reid could not help but notice all of the times that your quiet brilliance went by as unremarkable. He might have had an eidetic memory, carrying a labyrinthine of facts and figures in his head - but you knew things that even he had not come across. He could tell that you were a researcher, that you would explore through files for knowledge because you wanted to.

When Spencer would pull a fact or statistic out of the air, you would be listening raptly. On several occasions you would scribble something down afterwards, and it made Spencer’s heart swell. This was how he first became so attuned to you when you joined the team. After that, he made sure to observe you.

He noticed that you would duck your head into files of each case, going through detail after detail with a furrowed brow. You would write in a frantic scrawl on post-it notes as a cue to do further research.

The most endearing part of it all, was that you would do the same thing even if there wasn’t a case. You would carry a tome with you, with the tails of post-it flaps coming out the side, each one crowded with writing. You were smart, Spencer learned, and he wondered why it wasn’t seen as big of an asset as it truly was to the team.

At first he could pretend that his interest was merely for the good of the team, learning more about you and what you were capable of. Obviously you were hired for a reason, likely your careful observations and sharp psychological profiling — but there was so much more. Spencer was finding it harder to pretend that this interest was not at all motivated by the affection that was developing for you.

He had three PhDs and was the so-called “resident genius,” but he wondered if you could give him a run for his money. The thing was, because you were quiet and private, he didn’t know — and that in itself was exciting.

On one case where you were observing the body at the scene, a particularly strange case where the jaw of the victim had swelled with tumors, you quickly told everyone to back up.

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“It looks like possible radiation poisoning because of how localized the tumors are — like the unsub had the victim consume radium.” You said. “I could be wrong, of course. We could check her teeth.”

“Teeth?” Morgan asked.

Spencer quickly replied. “Radium has properties that make it glow in the dark, it was used as a novelty for that reason well into the 1970’s before restrictions were placed on it, actually. If the victim had been ingesting radium it is possible her teeth might glow. In 1938 a case was settled where a group factory workers sued their employment because they had been encouraged to lick paintbrushes covered in radium in the course of their work, resulting in massive tumours around the neck and jaw.”

“And the factory workers had tumours like this?” Hotch asked. He was asking Spencer now, not you.

“Remarkably similar.” Spencer replied.

Spencer glanced at you, but it didn’t seem to bother you that he had jumped in. In fact, the only that seemed to be upsetting to you was the fact that the unsub was on the loose.

“I’ll call some radiologists in.” Hotch said, already lifting the phone to his ear.

It turned out, that you were right. It was in fact radium, and you made sure that the team was safe by telling them to keep their distance from the body. The radiation levels on the body were dangerous.

On the plane home from that case Spencer had sat beside you, and he couldn’t stop thinking about your astute observation. You smiled up at him when he settled next to you, looking back down at the book in your lap.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You looked back up at him. “Yeah, Spencer?”

“That was a good catch with the radium.”

“Oh, that. Thank you.” You beamed. “But you would have caught it if I hadn’t.”

Would he? With all of the gruesome things he had seen they all morphed together, he wasn’t sure that he would have jumped to radium, of all things, as quickly as you had. That he would have been as cautious in avoiding the body to investigate if you hadn’t said something.

“I mean it. It was good catch. It was pretty brilliant, actually.”

“Thanks, Spence.” You said softly.

He knew he should let you get back to your book that was covered in post-it notes, but there was a thought that kept nagging at him. “Y/N?” He said again.

“Yeah?”

“Did it — did I overstep when you were telling the team about the radiation? Because if I did—”

“No, I got to stop you there. You helped. I’d rather not have the attention.”

He furrowed his brow, but didn’t say anything more, letting you return to your book.

After that it seemed that the rest of the team was starting to pick up on your fierce intelligence, too. It was hard to ignore the books you carried with you, but Spencer thought it would have been impossible to not notice you. Not just because you were utterly beautiful, but because everything about your mind was captivating.

Morgan remarked on it when you found a pattern in the artwork of a string of victims’ homes. The artwork looked nothing alike, but you picked it up.

“This painting.” You said, pointing at it. “It’s German expressionist.”

“Okay?” Morgan said.

“It could be nothing, but the last victim had a print of German artwork in their home — it was from the dada movement — but they’re both from the same time period. The other two victims had books on the Bauhaus — an influential German design school that operated between the first and second world wars.” You explained. “I wouldn’t have said anything, but the average joe wouldn’t have German post-World War One art. All of our victims are interested in the same time period for art — seems like too much of a coincidence.”

Morgan stared at you.

“What?” You asked sheepishly.

“Did Reid just possess you for a moment there? How’d you know all that?”

You shrugged and changed the subject. “I’ll call Garcia and see if she can connect the victims through local art groups or galleries.”

Morgan stared at you as you walked off, phoning Garcia. Spencer came up beside him and squinted at the painting on the wall.

“I think I know how the victims might be connected.” Spencer said to Morgan, analyzing the painting.

“The art?”

Spencer looked at Morgan in surprise. “You know about German art?”

Morgan snorted and shook his head. He gestured to you. “Y/N is calling up Garcia right now. Can’t imagine how she knew anything about it.”

Spencer furrowed his brow. “I knew it, though.”

“Exactly.” Morgan patted Spencer’s shoulder and left to talk to Hotch.

You put the phone down and turned noticing Spencer looking at you. You smiled when you saw him. He loved the way you smiled at him, as if he was the only other person in the entire world. He felt his heart rate increase and new, scientifically speaking, that he was completely infatuated with you.

“Garcia found a connection.” You told him.

You said nothing to him of the connections you had made first, but it made him appreciate the fact that he knew all the more. You downplayed your accomplishments. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side so that he could learn about every one of them.

Rossi noticed during a case, when Spencer was reading one of the unsub’s journals. Flipping through the book quickly and absorbing the information.

“Hard to believe the kid can read that fast sometimes.” Rossi said to you. “He reads 20,000 words per minute.”

“It’s over 60 times the norm. He’s pretty amazing.” You said back.

“The norm?”

You nodded. “Yeah, average adult reads between 200 to 300 words per minute, he reads around 333 words per second.”

“You some kind of whiz kid, too?” Rossi asked.

You scoffed. “Hardly. I just read a lot.”

“So does Reid.”

“You know what I mean.” And with that you left Rossi, effectively stopping the conversation.

Spencer smiled, having overheard you two. Whether you wanted to or not, you would slip little bits of information that show just how much you were thinking. You couldn’t hide your mind completely, and Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about what conversations would ensue in just spending a day with you alone.

Your voice saying he’s pretty amazing kept playing in his head and he could feel his face flush. Did you know how that sounded? You thought he, of all people, was amazing - not his brain, or his skills, but him. Did you mean it to sound like that?

Rossi turned to Spencer. “You know your face is red.” He said.

Spencer stared at Rossi, but he couldn’t make his mouth form any words. A grin spread across Rossi’s face, reading Spencer like a book.

“It’s okay Doctor, I won’t tell anyone.” Rossi said, and got back to his own work.

The rest of the day Spencer could hardly focus on anything, constantly aware of where you were in the bullpen - or distracted when you left the bullpen to see Garcia because that meant you were gone. He tried to keep his head down and look at evidence, but you were so close and you thought that he was pretty amazing, and it was nearly impossible to think about anything else. By the time he felt satisfied enough with the work he had done that day to maybe pack up it was already dark out.

Spencer saw you reading at your desk in the bullpen. Everyone had gone home already, but you were there scribbling notes down. When Spencer neared your desk he saw the book, a book he had been reading two days ago.

You looked up and smiled at him in surprise, with those dazzling eyes of yours. You pushed your hair behind your ear and all that Spencer could think about was what it would feel like to touch.

“Hi, Spence.” You said. “What’s up?”

Spencer swallowed, and his world came to a standstill. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I think I love you.” His eyes suddenly went wide when he realized what he had said.

He turned around on his heel and rushed towards the door. He could hear your chair scratch against the floor and you called out.

“Spencer!”

He stilled, his hand on the door. He wanted to run, to get as far away and hopefully have you forget about it and not lose your friendship. He never wanted to disappoint you or make you uncomfortable, but he couldn’t turn his back on you either. He turned his head slowly, afraid to see your face.

You didn’t look angry. You had a small shy smile on your face.

“I think I love you, too.”

He dropped his hand from the door. “You do?”

You nodded. “I do.”

He laughed, feeling giddy. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confessed. “About your kindness and your brilliance, and just, you. I just — can I kiss you?”

“Why, Dr. Spencer Reid, I would like nothing more.”

That was all he needed before he was across the room, holding your face in his hands and kissing you. Spencer, with his eidetic memory, could not remember having ever been so happy.

[scared-aquarius]

me very aggressively complimenting the signs

Aries- You have so much passion for the things and the people you care about that it is SICKENING. You’re so goddamn DETERMINED to meet your goals it is absolutely fucking admirable. You were BORN to be a leader whether you’re leading others or taking control of yourself. You’re not afraid to do what needs to be done because you have the fucking strength. You bring people TOGETHER. You have BIG SHORT PEOPLE ANGER ENERGY and it will get you FAR. You WILL accomplish the things in life by continuing to be your CONFIDENT and BADASS SELF. FUCK

Taurus- You are the definition of a RELIABLE HUMAN BEING. You are the rock that so many people need in their lives. You’re so fucking devoted to any task thrown your way. You make life problems YOUR BITCH. You do this by enduring all the garbage that gets thrown at you and wading it out sometimes based on pure goddamn stubbornness and you come out the other side with a BIG BAG OF ACCOMPLISHMENT and a MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR. Even when you want to give up you DON’T because you’re a responsible PIECE OF SHIT with GLITTER ON TOP and I love that.

Gemini- FUCK GEMINI HATERS. Some may call you two-faced, real ones know you are ADAPTABLE. You are fucking CHAMELEONS. You were the person in high school who had friends in ALL different friend groups. You are truly a gentle person with a curious heart, do you fucking hear me. You have the ability to reach so many people with your WIT and CHARM. You’re not afraid to take off your mask in front of people which makes you that much more RELATABLE. PEOPLE AREN’T ONE-DIMENSIONAL SO YOU SHOULDN’T GET FLAK FOR IT. Direct me to the Gemini haters, let me roundhouse kick them real quick. 

Cancer- You have the BIGGEST HEART and your ability to make others feel comforted in their time of need is EXQUISITE. Those closest to you know you will defend them to your LAST BREATH because you are loyal as fuck. The way you can find even the smallest things to be important or sentimental is VERY TOUCHING. You’re like a $100 8 oz piece of medium rare filet mignon covered in a sugary honey garlic sauce, SWEET and TENDER, SHIT. You can empathize with just about everyone, even those who have wronged you because you really are just that fucking PURE.

Leo- I would very much LIKE TO BE AROUND YOU. Not only do you know how to light up a room but you can FUCKING keep my ATTENTION. You absolutely know how to dominate a conversation, teach me how, you are a goddamn NATURAL. The CHARISMA, it OOZES, sometimes when you don’t even realize. You are the person others go to when they need a good cheering up. You know how to make a person laugh under any circumstance, you fucking wizard. If you were in a movie you’d be the hot one and also the comic relief and also the main character who everyone loves, holy SHIT

Virgo- You very much should receive the RESPECT that you fucking DESERVE. You put in the WORK, bitch, you know how to fucking GET SHIT DONE, bitch. People may misunderstand you for being cold, but in reality you just know how to put your own feelings to the side in order to do the task at hand, and do it with PERFECTION, because you are so fucking detail-oriented, you never miss a single fucking BEAT. You would be the person to find a cure to the zombie apocalypse in less than a fucking week. You can get things right even on your first try because you’re EXTREMELY FUCKING CAPABLE.

Libra- You aren’t afraid to put your faith in others and THAT is what makes you so fucking LIKEABLE. You are humble while still remaining STRONG and true to WHO YOU ARE. People fucking love you because you know how to view a situation from all sides because you have an OPEN MIND and an OPEN HEART. It is truly disgusting how amazing and rare that is, you fucking gem. YOU GODDAMN PERSONIFICATION OF GRACE. How are you able to fight for the things you believe in all while remaining sympathetic to all, it’s beautiful. YOU ARE FUCKING LOVED, UNDERSTAND THIS. 

Scorpio- You are the person who your friends would go to when they need to get rid of a body because you’re that fucking TRUE and FAITHFUL to the people you LOVE. Not only would you get rid of the body, you’d also know how to do it with 100% certainty you’d never get caught because you’re so damn resourceful. Is this morbid as shit? MAYBE, but you don’t care because you’re the FUCKING COOL ONE. You are a FIERCE BITCH who people close to you LOVE and your enemies should FEAR. Never underestimate yourself because you have the PASSION and the CUNNING to get through all fuckery. 

Sagittarius- If I had to sit on a 30-hour long flight with someone, it’d be you because you would be SO FUCKING FUN TO TALK TO. You truly do not give a SHIT what other people think about you and it allows you to speak your mind freely, it’s so fucking amazing. Your love to travel and learn new things makes you INTERESTING as FUCK and you know how to put anyone in a good fucking mood. You make people feel INCLUDED. Your thirst for adventure is CONTAGIOUS, I would like to explore the inside of the earth with you, fucker. You are a prime example of WALKING the FUCKING WALK.

Capricorn- You know how to get the most out of literally ANYTHING, if you were given enough popsicle sticks and glue you could probably build a second fucking Golden Gate Bridge. You KNOW what you want and you know how to fucking get it. Your mind is SHARP AS FUCK. You have so much discipline and self-control you could probably become Lord Commander of the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD and you’d be fucking GOOD AT IT. You are a goddamn force to be reckoned with in both your personal and professional life because you take yours AND others' mistakes and learn from them, it’s fucking BRILLIANT.

Aquarius- The world is your fucking OYSTER, BITCH and you are ready to mold it into what it needs to be. You are CREATIVE, you are INNOVATIVE, you are a fucking VISIONARY. People love you because they know you give a shit about them because you SHOW them. You don’t fucking tolerate those who hurt others and people ADMIRE YOU FOR IT. You aren’t afraid to be your own fucking person and that spans from how you think to how you act to how you look. IT’S ABSOLUTELY FUCKING ALLURING. You help others feel comfortable in their own skin when they’re around you without you even REALIZING. 

Pisces- You are a GODDAMN PIECE OF ART. You are the type of person who would fucking die to save a stranger. You are deeply connected with your emotions and because of this you are able to create ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE FUCKING THINGS, not to mention it allows you to really connect with others. People from all different walks of life get drawn to you because you’re SO FRIENDLY. WE ALL WANNA BE YOUR GODDAMN FRIEND. You see the beauty in the mundane. Describing a personality like yours would turn into fucking POETRY. YOU ARE A SOFT PIANO SONG.

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author’s notes: hello, and thank you so much for all your reblogs, likes and comments. I absolutely adore reading all your reviews. Thank you for taking a minute to comment. It motivates me to write and have a better understanding of how you see the characters and story development. Please know the tag lists are still open! Let me know if you would like to be added!

XI.

Suguru woke up around 6am. He figured you would be already out for your morning run and coming back soon for a shower and breakfast.

After making his bed and taking a shower himself, Suguru put on a pair of grey sweat pants and a black fitted t-shirt. His sleeve of tattoos partially exposed, his right arm covered in carefully designed Chinese, Japanese symbols, Nordic runes and dragons. Aside from the pleasant although chaotic aesthetic, the art work etched on his skin served as a form of seal or an amulet. Something to keep the darkness within in check.

He decided something simple was in order, knowing you, there wasn’t much that he could get away with making and expecting you to eat with your rigorous diet requirements. Scrambled egg whites with some parsley, cherry tomatoes, salt and pepper. For a drink he prepared a blend of that green juice you liked: with green apples, pineapple and celery.

The raven haired sorcerer set everything on the table and looked at his phone. I was 6:45am. You were already late. You usually were back home by 6:30am. Maybe you went out later and decided to extend your run. It was your free day after all.

Although… you usually made sure Suguru knew so he wouldn’t worry.

Grabbing his phone he texted you

***From: Sugu

To: Kitten 🐱

Breakfast is ready!***

Immediately he heard your phone go off in your room. Now, that was weird. You always took your phone with you to listen to music while working out. Did you perhaps sleep in?

Knocking at your door Suguru called “hey doll face! Are you awake?” No answer came back from the inside. He could not hear the shower running either. “Hey! I’m coming in” he announced but when he opened the door he found your room empty, your bed was still made and cold. Your phone on the night stand along with your apartment keys.

Fear coursed through his veins when he tried to check for your energy trail and found it long gone. You have been gone since last night.

“Fuck!” One didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had something to do with your disappearance.

Putting on his shoes he ran out the door. He had to find you before something bad happened. Gojo had not been in a good state of mind back in Japan, he didn’t even want to imagine what was going on in his head now that he had you so close. So stupid! Suguru should have kept a close eye on you instead of trusting that just because you were in the same apartment you would be safe from Satoru.

-

Your mouth was dry, your body overheated and sore. The sun hitting your face made you groan softly, you tried to turn around and continue sleeping but you couldn’t. Your body was trapped by heavy and strong limbs wrapped around you.

One pale and strong arm around your waist, the other supporting your head. Legs intertwined with Satoru’s. The platinum haired man laid behind you spooning you. He had you on a death grip.

Panic.

Last night came rushing altogether, with the frenzied memories of the passionate sexual encounter you and Satoru shared. And of course that had not been it, in the middle of the night he woke you up with tender kisses on your thighs and his head between your legs, setting aflame your senses over and over again; he wanted to have you once more. Second round lead to third and soon the sun was rising by the time your sweaty and exhausted bodies curled together to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

You moved as softly as possible, trying not to wake up the sleeping sorcerer who snored slightly on your ear. Removing his arm from your middle section was first, then you proceeded to try and detangle your legs from his.He groaned and you stopped moving, looking behind you Satoru merely adjusted in his sleep and continued snoring lightly, allowing you enough time to leave the bed. Your clothes laid destroyed and scattered all over the floor.

Swallowing thickly you decided to grab a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt out of Satoru’s closet. You had to get out of there. NOW!

Barefooted you left the suite and walked down the main hall hurriedly receiving weird stares from the people you crossed on your way out. Taking the elevator down your hands trembled. ‘Come on! Come on! Faster!’ mentally hurrying the elevator until you reached the lobby. As soon as that door opened you sprinted towards the main entrance where the hotel taxis lined up. You got in one and gave him your address.

The drive wasn’t long, when you made it home you told the cab to charge the ride to Gojo Satoru’s room. You didn’t have anything on you to pay. The kind looking old cab driver agreed and left.

You were about to walk in when Suguru came rushing out with a frantic look in his eyes. The moment he saw you his stomach tightened, you were dressed in Satoru’s clothes, barefooted, with your h/c hair disheveled and all the marks that covered your neck, visible through the collar of the shirt you wore. Your e/c eyes looked at him, rimmed with tears when you ran into his arms. Geto held you tightly for a moment giving you the solace you needed.

“Come on y/n… let’s go inside” he whispered on your ear guiding you back into the building and towards the elevator.

As soon as you made it up to your apartment you broke down. Suguru had to pick you up and take you to the couch where he held you in his arms

“What happened Y/N?” He asked dreading the answer. Had Satoru forced himself on you? He didn’t even want to think about it. If his best friend had done that… Suguru would find a way to kill him.

You shook your head and tried to calm down enough to speak but that didn’t happen for the longest time.

Finally when it seemed you cried a river you avoided Suguru’s eyes, looking down you said “I… fucked up… “ it was a small whisper “I slept with him” you admitted “he showed up here last night and warped us back to his hotel and then… everything got out of control” you avoided saying that Satoru had tried to force himself on you at the beginning. You didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled before you broke in tears once more. Suguru and you were not in a relationship but a part of you felt you had betrayed the possibility of a future with him last night.

Suguru swallowed hard, he had no right to demand anything from you, it wasn’t your fault you were in love with Satoru and not with him. He still chose to remain by your side because he didn’t have the heart to leave you alone when you needed him the most.

-

Crystalline blue eyes opened, he stared at the ceiling of his hotel room before a hand searched the spot on the bed next to him. It was cold and empty. He sat up like a spring, you were gone “Y/N!…” he yelled but you were not there anymore “fuck!” When did you leave? You didn’t even give him the chance to explain, to talk to you about what he felt and what he was willing to do to get you back. He didn’t want you to think last night had been a one time thing nor an ‘exes fling’.

It seemed he couldn’t do anything right. Last night had been… magical for a lack of a better word. He felt your love in your kisses, your tender and passionate touch, in your arms he felt redeemed, when you allowed him to have you Satoru thought…. he hoped to be on the way to get you back. Despite his mistakes and his guilt you welcomed him inside you once more and gave him everything.

He didn’t want all those hours of love making and love promises to mean nothing. He had to talk to you and he had to be ready to accept whatever it is you were going to say.

Grabbing the shreds of your clothing from the floor he inhaled deeply finding your lingering scent on them. Once more, the fact he almost forced you stabbed his chest with a piercing pang of guilt. Last night had been fueled by his jealousy. But when he realized what he was doing he changed his behavior and instead chose to show you how much he loved you, how much he needed you in his life.

Something in him was changing. Last night he opened his eyes to the monstrosity he was capable of committing. It wasn’t right to do this to you. He was inadvertently destroying the shards of your relationship.

A revelation washed over him like a bucket of cold water

He had to be willing to lose you if he wanted a chance to get you back. It had to be your choice. He couldn’t rob you of your autonomy just because he was going to lose his shit if you chose to leave him for good.

It took a few hours of getting ready mentally and preparing himself for what he was going to say to you. He wanted to talk to you and explain that what happened last night meant everything to him, he wanted to open his heart and lay it at your feet. He was afraid of what he was going to encounter. Will you reject him and tell him it was a mistake? Will you still push to go through with the divorce?…. Will you give him a chance to prove to you he was truly remorseful and willing to make changes to get you back?

He warped outside of the door of your apartment and rang the bell.

-

Suguru opened the door to see Satoru standing on the other side. His anger and frustration got the best out of him so he threw a punch that incredibly connected with Satoru’s cheek. The white haired sorcerer tumbled backwards but didn’t fall on the floor. He chose not to use his infinity on purpose, he owed that one to Suguru.

“What do you want now Satoru?” Asked his best friend while standing in front of the door, his frame blocking the access.

“Can I… talk to her?” Gojo asked in a tame tone, he didn’t come here to make demands, he wanted to fix things once and for all.

https://youtu.be/DGxHSt8gRkY

“I’ll talk to him Sugu” Your voice came from behind. Geto turned around to look into your eyes, doubt plagued his expression. He wasn’t certain it was the best thing right now. But before he could protest you continued “I’ll be alright… I have to do this…” squeezing his arm trying to comfort him Suguru sighed and nodded “I’ll be in my room if you need me” shooting Satoru a last warning glance he left walking down the hall.

|||

See you've been changing, baby

In good ways and bad ways

Can't say what I say, it's far too late

And I think you made me, baby

Made me too nervous

Crying and this hurt and I gotta tell you why

|||

“Come in…” Satoru followed you into your living room “y/n… I… I am sorry…. “ you were about to interrupt him but he lifted one hand asking you to wait “please let me say this..” agreeing you let him continue.

“I am sorry for all the pain I put you through, it was selfish and stupid. I never loved Sookie, it was always you. The only woman in my heart. And I know this sounds like a stupid excuse but it’s the truth. “ taking a deep breath he steeled himself for the next part. You were going to hate him but he had to come clean

“I was an idiot… I thought, before Sookie… I thought that maybe I was not really in love with you…. That… if I met someone else I wouldn’t feel this need… this terrifying addiction I feel for you… I was wrong. Everything intensified tenfold, I realized I love you more than anything in the world… more than myself. I wanted to fix everything but… it was too late because the damage had been done” swallowing hard Gojo continued “I failed you… as a husband, I know it has no forgiveness and yet… I cannot even start to think of a life without you in it. My days are miserable without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can’t function like a fucking normal person without you Y/N.

It hurt so much to hear his words. It made you feel like all the promises, all the love confessions he made before convincing you to marry him were lies. Why did he ask you to marry him in the first place if he wasn’t sure he loved you? What kind of sick game were you to him?!. You had to make a conscious effort to not sob. Biting your lower lip, forcing the tears to remain contained.

Almost as if he was listening to your thoughts Satoru continued “I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you Y/N. When I held you in my arms that night outside of the ballet studio in Tokyo, when I pulled you away from that car… I loved you. I just…. Was too stupid and too selfish to admit that to myself” he took a step closer and held one of your hands “I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize you were… you are all I need. Please Y/N, please forgive me. I can’t live like this anymore. The guilt and despair are consuming me alive” he said in a broken whisper. “last night meant the world to me… baby, I love you so much…” continued looking into your eyes with his azure orbs while he held your hand.

This was too much to handle…

It was one thing to think Satoru fell out of love and that’s why he found someone else. But it was another completely different to hear he had not even been sure of his feelings for you in the first place.

Pulling your hand away you couldn’t control the tears that escaped your eyes, like translucent cascades, pouring the pain you felt “leave….” You whispered looking at the floor.

“Y/N…. Please don-…”

You cut him “LEAVE!” A firm yell came out; half broken, half desperate. “You… you lied to me! All these years! Y… you lied to me! “ the statement was like a dagger straight to his heart. Spoken in a painful tone. He wanted to explain further but you cut him “I heard what you had to say now let me be…” the glacial tone in your voice froze the blood in Satoru’s veins. Your eyes hardened inclemently as you regarded this man who you once thought was the beginning and end of your life. You really couldn’t see the man you fell in love with in him. Not anymore.

|||

Said I can do this all night, baby

Said I was actin' out of line, maybe

Can't put my trauma to the side

When you told me I was lyin'

Had me feelin' like I died, baby

I seen a grown man cry, baby

Just see you do it, ain't special, no

|||

“Y/N..” absolute terror transfixed Gojo’s handsome features. Tears of despair running down his handsome pale face. Your aura was so cold and distant. He had never seen you like this before. “Please Y/N… I-…”

“I said… leave! And don’t come back. I am done with you. Good bye Satoru…” you turned around and walked away, disappearing behind the door of your room.

|||

And I know it might mess you up

Hatin' me ain't gon' get you love

Ain't nobody gon' set you up

I ain't even gon' sweat you, love

And we'll never be friends like this

God couldn't forgive like this

Way I really went in like this

Thank God I ain't been like this

|||

Suguru heard the loud exchange and came out. He couldn’t help but feel conflicted about his best friend. On one hand he was mad at him and wanted to kick him out himself, but seeing his desolate face as he stared at the closed door of your room made him feel bad for him. ‘You dug yourself in this hole my friend’ was all he could think “I think it’s best if you leave now Satoru..”

Gojo’s eyes were stuck on the door behind which you disappeared, his lower lip trembled, his hands shaking with anxiety, his heart contracting painfully in his chest, suffocating him. He needed.. he needed you but… you didn’t want him there. He wanted to say fuck it and steal you once more but he couldn’t solve things that way. No, you deserved more… better.

Without another word he warped away.

————-> Chapter 12

||| Tags:

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@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

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@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

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[avissapiens]

Avis' Subject Symposium

A Crash Course in Trance Pt 1: Files.

(Art by Acro @sodalite96/https://twitter.com/sodalite96 Used with their permission. Go check them out!)

So often new subjects come to me and they don’t know the first thing about trance. None of its mechanics or methods, and so it can be very daunting for them; to step into such a wide abyss without knowing what to expect and what is expected of you. Many of them, even experienced subjects, expect that 100% of the work is and should be done by the Hypnotist. In truth both parties, the hypnotist and the subject, must be willing and able. But while it’s more readily apparent what must be done in order for a tist to be successful in their endeavors, many subjects/potential subjects can have a hard time understanding what it takes to get the most out of their trance, both from pre-recorded files, and from live sessions with a hypnotist. So, I’m here to give you what is in my opinion, the essential Crash Course to Trance, starting first with trancing to files.

Location

Find yourself somewhere nice, darkened and quiet, where you know you won’t be disturbed. This is already a hard task for a lot of subjects, living with other people always increases the chance that one might barge in on you, eyes glazed over, drooling all over yourself. Or that someone’s reckless pounding from above might shake the abyss so thoroughly that it takes you out of trance. But here is the thing I will stress. While physical quiet is a good idea as it allows you to focus on the words and suggestions streaming into your head. What matters so much more is internal peace and quiet. A location where you can feel at ease and safe and secure in yourself. A locked bedroom surrounded by mountains of pillows. Your favorite plush armchair that threatens to swallow you almost as well as the Abyss of Trance. The peaceful morning route on the train whose path you know so well that you can be lulled into trance just by the rumbling vibrations of the tracks beneath your seat. Wherever you can be comfortable.

The ideal location for trance I'm sure does exist in some government facility or therapists office somewhere, where you can be dropped into an isolation tank and be brainwashed clean. But most of us will never encounter that. So what matters then is the ideal mindset for trance, which is one of peace, safety, trust and assurance.

Equipment

This is one of the reasons so many love using files. Because its barrier to entry is so low. All you really need is something to play the file on and a place to listen. This is in contrast to working directly with a tist where you need, at the very least, A good internet connection, maybe a camera, Another person who you trust and who might be wildly inconsistent. Or working in person which probably will require a whole location and time-table to get set up. No, Files are relatively simple and they are no better or worse than live sessions for certain purposes. However, like all simple things, they can be elevated by improving its ingredients. A box cake from the store and a home-made chiffon are functionally the same, but their difference comes in the ingredients and technique.

So for trance I recommend spoiling yourself a little, at the very least buy yourself some decent quality over-ear headphones. Many file-makers (myself included) add frequencies and binaural beats underneath the main track. These serve the purpose of training your own brain’s waveforms to a certain frequency, thus more easily taking you into trance. But they can only be detected and properly registered with some good headphones. Additionally, The encapsulation of headphones provides a more immersive experience, isolating you and transporting you through the trance experience like you are in your own little world. Trust me. $600 studio headphones aren’t needed, But a good quality wired $40 headset goes a long way and is multi-purpose. A decent quality chair or mattress also will serve you well, not just in trance but in life.

Focus

Trance is a very tricky state that, like all things, requires practice and patience to master. Staying in trance is like a tightrope walk, teetering gently between the realm of consciousness and awareness, and the oblivion of total subconscious and sleep. It is the liminal space between the two, that subconscious space that makes trance and hypnosis possible. It is the state where your mind is most open to total suggestion and where magical things can happen. So how does one walk the line between these two modes of being? The answer is focus. Or rather Half-focus. Focusing without focusing. With descriptions like that it can sound like some kind of Zen riddle, but that is often what it feels like sometimes. Now this is not a laser focus like you would expect in a classroom setting, no one is being tested here. It's a more gentle and subtle focus. Like focusing on the world around you. Focusing on the wind on your face, the rise and fall of your lungs; On the way your body just goes loose and slumps over. The trick is to go in and to follow along, to listen and pay attention and try to comply with the suggestions given at first. Suspend your disbelief and engage with it unironically and without pretense. If you notice yourself drifting, don’t try to force it back to focus. Simply let it explore where it wants and to carry on organically. Nothing in trance needs to be forced. Simply focused on and allowed to happen.

Many subs oscillate in trance, their minds ebbing and flowing like a Sine wave; wavering in and out of trance, one minute aware, the next minute completely blank and asleep, and then for a brief moment in bliss. But it averages out to trance at the end of it. One must also not fear dropping out of trance. Focusing too much on that eventuality makes it a self fulfilling prophecy. Just Focus-not-focus-half-focus and enjoy yourself.

Apprehension

So many subjects look at files and their mind begins to spin with endless questions and anxieties. Worries about “losing themselves” or “changing too much” or “doing things they don’t want to do.” It’s a valid set of concerns for a new subject, uninitiated in the true mechanics of trance and only knowing of hypnosis what is shown in the media. Evil villains and monsters brainwashing our heroes to do horribly enticing and arousing things. So ingrained is this idea that it even crossed over into the allure of hypnosis files. And while I won’t say it's impossible for that to happen, I have 3 comments on it to ease your mind. First, with Files, one of the best things about it is that the subject gets to control practically every single aspect of the experience. When you do it, how many times you listen, and whether you listen at all to begin with. While all files should be clearly labelled with Content and trigger warnings and given an explicit summary of what they are and what they do, we know that is not the case. The amount of “Mystery files” I've seen on various forums irks me to no end. But it appeals to some people. However, for those who are not particularly fond of surprises you have the absolute power to review the file before you trance to it. You can give it a fully aware walk through, or just jump through segments to look for anything that doesn’t suit your taste.

Once you’ve done that however you might still be conflicted about some content. Not openly averse to it, but unsure. Dumbing down and IQ reduction are probably number one on this list. People are so terrified of somehow losing everything when they learn to stop overthinking things. For these concerns my second point suggests Introspection. Ask yourself “Why do I/Don’t I want this?” “Is it really as bad as my anxiety is making it out to be?” Because if you like something a lot, and really want it, then why should you deny yourself it out of fear? Even aside from dumbing, many desires are tinged with this air of guilt or fear. Terrified to acknowledge or grab hold of what we truly want and own up to it. In my estimation Hypnosis can be one of the best ways of dabbling with those desires because in trance there is no shame or judgement. Finally, my 3rd point says you don’t have to worry. If you really don’t like a suggestion you can always leave it behind. Your mind has built in fail-safes to reject suggestions you haven’t agreed to. A file cannot make you do something unless you want it, at least subconsciously. The old cliche goes “All Hypnosis is Self-Hypnosis” and what that fundamentally means is that as a subject you are the one who decides what happens. You consent and go along with things and allow them to happen to you. It is your desire, your focus, your arousal and your own subconscious that allows hypnosis to work. Subjects have more power than they know. I really hope it assists some people in vibing better with trance and files. I’ll be putting out another version for Live hypnotists later this month.

Thanks again to Acro for letting me use their Art, definitely go and support them on twitter. And If you want to support the creation of more hypnotic experiences that might help you practice that balance of focus then you can do so by subscribing to my Patreon, or to my Youtube channel. And if you want to interact more closely with me and my supportive community you can join my Discord server.